Vengeance
by TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo
Summary: After her attack on Winchester Ranch, the Winchester clan has declared war on their new threat, Delilah, calling on every hunter they know for help. Her origin is still unknown, but Delilah is one of the deadliest enemies that they have ever faced. Dean Winchester is just hoping that he and his family make it out alive. 'Vengeance' takes place directly after 'War' and is rated T.
1. Chapter 1

::Happy Summer Solstice and welcome back to Winchester Ranch! This story takes place directly after 'War' in my Winchester Ranch timeline and is a long one. I'll be posting once or twice a week, so I hope you stick with me to find out what happens when the Winchester family fights for vengeance on Delilah. Please enjoy and review! I love to hear what you think. Thank you for reading!

love and internetty hugs,

The Girl with the Dinosaur Tattoo::

...

...

Chapter 1

Dean

"Paul?" Grace was on the phone again, tucked away in the corner of the darkened waiting room with a notepad on her lap, drumming a pen occasionally. She had been on the phone for the last twenty-four hours or so and it was starting to wear on her. "Yeah, hi. It's Grace." When Paul didn't seem to reply right away, she shook her head. "Browning? Yeah, there it is," she muttered under her breath. She faked a smile as she continued, "Hi! Yeah, it's good to hear your voice, too."

I turned away from her and flipped closed the ancient spellbook I was holding, rubbing my eyes and shaking the exhaustion from my body. Everett and Levi had been missing two days and we were no closer to finding a lead or a clue as to where Delilah had taken them. I hadn't even had the chance to go out to find a demon to torture for information; we were still camped out at the hospital, waiting for news about Serra.

We could really use Cas right about now.

Grace clicked her tongue from her position on the other side of the waiting room. "We're really not sure, Paul, but we know she's involved with a Grand Coven of witches and has some pretty major powers of her own." Tapping her fingers on her notepad, she closed her eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. "I'm calling in a solid 'you-owe-me' from you, along with every other hunter I know." Her blue gaze flicked to mine and she continued quietly, "We're going to war."

Grace was still shooting blanks when it came to her abilities as a nephilim. She wasn't able to read my mind, she couldn't hear the kids' thoughts, or even get a lock on her sister, which was absolutely unheard of. Even when we first met, Grace and her sister had the ability to communicate seemingly telepathically, but it was as if Serra was behind an iron wall. Grace wouldn't have even known she was alive if she couldn't see her with her own eyes. It was tearing her up and there wasn't a thing I could do about.

Sam kept watch over his wife with an unwavering amount of dedication. The puncture wound through her lungs and spine from a tree branch made for a difficult surgery and as far as Alana, our nurse friend and confidant told us, they lost Serra four times while she was on the operating table. It had taken five transfusions between Sam and Grace to get her blood pressure high enough to finish the surgery yesterday. The doctors had only patched Serra during the first operation, hoping to stop the blood flow long enough to keep her brain from slipping into a coma.

None of this would have happened if we had been able to stop Serra from going out into the storm that Delilah had created with some sort of spell.

My thoughts returned once again to my missing son, taken from our own basement panic room from right under our noses. Levi, our nephew, was missing as well, and if Serra hadn't been trapped in a hospital bed, we would already be out there, tearing the world apart, looking for both of them.

Grace stood from her position and stretched, pocketing her phone and closing the notebook she had been holding. "Paul Caruso will be here on Tuesday," she muttered, still avoiding my gaze.

"Paul?" I teased, hiding the familiar bubble of jealousy that I felt whenever Grace mentioned someone that I knew she once had a relationship with. I knew it was natural for her to date when she was younger, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she had always belonged with me.

Pressing her lips together, Grace nodded. "Yeah, Paul," she repeated, staring at the floor. "That was decades ago and I am thinking that we have bigger problems than a has-been boyfriend." She shifted position, glancing down the hall of the hospital. "Has Sam come out of her room yet?"

"Not yet," I replied, rubbing my face. I took a deep breath and watched my wife meander around the room, aimlessly looking at the badly framed hospital art as she walked past. "Grace?"

"Mm?" she answered, still not looking at me.

I took another breath and steadied myself for the conversation I was about to attempt, unsure of how to continue. "How you holding up?" I asked, narrowing my eyes uncomfortably. It was awkward and I didn't know what else to say, but I held my breath and plowed on. "I mean, with all that's happening and—" Grace whipped around and furrowed her eyebrows, already looking upset. "Grace," I whispered, holding up my hands. "I'm not trying to start anything, but you haven't slept in thirty-six hours. You're beat."

"Yeah, I am," Grace answered immediately, her voice finding that dangerous tone that I only heard when she was really pissed. "But in case you haven't noticed, our entire world is falling apart and there is very little that I can do about it at this moment in time." She plopped the notebook down on the chair next to her and put her hands on her hips, taking a shaky breath. "I am doing what I can by calling everyone I know to get their help."

Pressing my lips together, I nodded, wishing that Grace could hear my thoughts, like she normally could, because I had no idea how to organize the rage, guilt, desperation, and sadness that I felt into words to say aloud in order to comfort her.

She stared at me, licking her lips and shaking her head. "I know," she sighed, covering her face. "I don't know what to say either."

"Hey," I chuckled, "you can hear me."

Grace made a face, shaking her head slowly. "No," she whispered, "I just know you well enough that I could read it off your expression."

Reaching out to her, I touched Grace's shoulder and slowly, she closed her eyes and hung her head. I took the opening and pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and tucking her to my chest, resting my head on top of hers. Grace gasped as she tried to control her emotions, but I knew she was close to losing it.

"Hey, hey," I whispered, running my fingers through her hair. "We'll get Sere home and we'll take this on, no holds barred."

…

"Hey," I greeted my brother as I walked into my sister-in-law's hospital room. The steady beep of her ventilator and blood pressure gauge was reassuring, but the fact that she was still unconscious was unsettling. Sammy looked up, his eyes bloodshot and exhausted. "Dude, you look like shit. You need some sleep."

Sam pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Yeah, I'll get on that," he replied, glancing at Serra. "I'm not going anywhere until she's awake."

Sighing, I sat in the chair opposite of my brother, holding my head in my hands. "Grace went home," I began quietly. "Wants to be with the kids," I continued, hesitating enough for the familiar stab of pain to echo through my chest. "Well, the girls, anyway."

"How did this happen, Dean?" Sam asked. I didn't need to ask what he was talking about.  
Shaking my head slowly, I stared at Serra's monitors. "I don't know, Sammy," I breathed. "I don't know. We let our guard down. We trusted the wrong person. We never should have separated."

"Crowley," Sam began, "I don't know, Dean," he continued quietly. "I honestly don't think Crowley was to blame for this one, for a change. He looked as upset as we were right before he disappeared."

"But he still disappeared."

Sam stood silently, wandering over to his wife and brushed her hair out of her face and arranged her hands gently on the bed, carefully avoiding the IVs coming from her arms and hands. "What am I going to say to her?" he asked quietly.

I licked my lips, completely at a loss. "You tell her that as soon as she's well, we're gonna let her loose," I began. "You tell her that we'll get him back. We'll get both of them back and I'll let her do the honors when it comes to gutting the bitch that took them."

Not turning to face me, Sam nodded once. "Any word on Cas?" he asked.

Closing my eyes, I shook my head. "No," I answered, standing and shoving my hands in my pockets. "His vessel is still just standing there in the middle of my living room, taking up space and reminding me that he's completely useless right now." I wandered towards the window and stared out into the darkness. "Lucia too," I added, not turning around. "Grace doesn't know what to do. Her…her abilities are getting weaker by the day and it's taking everything I am not to tackle her and the girls and drag them into the panic room, just for safe keeping."

Sammy stared at my back, waiting for me to turn around. When I didn't, he continued anyway, "Locking the girls away isn't going to save them, Dean. For the first time in my life," he took a deep breath as I turned around, seeing the rage in his face, "for the first time, I want a gun in everyone's hands and I want to go all out to hunt this bitch down."

I tried to hold it, but a smile found my lips anyway, "Sounds like you've been married to Serra too long."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Sam chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Go home and get some sleep, Dean. I'm fine here."

Walking towards my brother, I reached out and patted his shoulder with the palm of my hand. "I'll bring you a bagel and some coffee in the morning," I answered.

"Make it Irish," he replied, still holding his weak smile. When he made eye contact with me, the smile slipped from his lips and he took a ragged breath. "Don't let my daughter out of your sight."

I patted his shoulder again, my eyebrows knitting together. "Not on your life," I replied, nodding slowly. "I'll see you in the morning."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Grace

I held Charlie and Faith in my lap as I pressed my phone between my ear and shoulder and watched Emery dance around with Glory and Liberty. As it rang, I did what I could to stay focused on the task in front of me; call as many hunters as I could, gathering them to help. I knew there was no way that we would be able to fight this war by ourselves. We had no idea what we were up against and we needed all hands on deck.

"How did you get this number?" a harsh, heavily accented male voice came through the speaker of my phone, jarring me out of my thoughts.

I took a deep breath and shook my head, "Um, hi," I stuttered. "Tulley?"

"Who is this?"

Closing my eyes to focus, I steadied my voice. "Tulley, this is Grace Win—Browning. Grace Browning. We worked together up in Portland a few times? My dad was Truman Browning?"

The paused over the phone was almost more than I could take, and I held onto the babies as comfort as I waited. "Truman Browning?" Tulley's voice echoed. "What do you mean 'was'?"

"He's been dead for about fifteen years, now."

Tulley was a rugged, older hunter from Alaska, famous for tracking and hunting werewolves in the north. The man was obnoxiously huge and I idly wondered how small Sammy would look standing next to him. "Well," he answered, clearing his throat, "Guess I will forgive him for not keeping in touch."

I took a deep breath and fought the giggle that threatened to escape my throat. "That's good of you," I answered.

"I am guessing you did not call to catch up," Tulley sighed, grunting slightly as he collapsed into a sitting position. "What is it you want, girl?"

"Well," I made a face, "it's not what I want, per se. It's what I need."

"You are wasting my time."

Clicking my tongue, I got right down to it, "Tulley, we're up against something big. Bigger than we ever have in the past and we're calling in all our favors. You up for it?"

Tulley seemed to consider it momentarily, breathing heavily into the phone as he thought. "I get to kill something, yes? Been awhile since I get to kill something."

"Sure," I shrugged. "Just don't kill any of my people."

"When?"

"Tomorrow too soon?"

Smiling from behind his long salt and peppered beard, Tulley nodded slowly, the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips. "I remember always liking you, Grace Browning. You have the backbone no one has anymore. I will dust off old gear," he continued. "Going take me a few days to get down there. Too big to fly, you know."

I nodded, not bothering to answer.

"You are still in Kansas?"

"I'll text you the address," I replied, smiling as I drew a star next to Tulley's name on my list. "See you soon, Tulley."

…

Dean leaned against the doorframe of the hospital's ICU nurses' station, extending a cup of coffee to Alana. She smiled her thanks and took a deep breath, "You wanna catch me up, now?" she asked gently. "Tell me how Serra ended up with a collapsed lung, four broken ribs, and three crushed vertebrae?"

Licking his lips, Dean avoided her gaze, taking a sip of his own coffee instead. "There's a lot of shit going down right now, Alana. A lot of really big shit," he whispered from behind his coffee cup.

"I gathered that."

Knowing that he wasn't going to get off that easy, Dean took a deep breath and turned to face the nurse, bracing himself as he lowered his voice to speak. "There's this new player; Delilah. She showed up when we took a case in Holden, Maine and she's more powerful than we anticipated, especially for a witch."

"You're on a literal witch hunt?" Alana asked, raising her eyebrows and staring up at Dean. "That's insane."

Nodding, Dean continued, "That storm wasn't just a storm. You guys had thunderstorms, but the ranch got a tornado." He took another sip of his coffee. "Serra got it in her mind that she had to go out for the animals; it's like she was obsessed with it, wouldn't let it go. The next thing you know, there's a fucking tornado in my backyard and lightning struck, bringing down half of the oak tree…"

Alana nodded, completely immersed in the story. "The branch fell on her," Alana supplied. "I came to that conclusion when we pulled a wood splinter the size of my arm from her chest."

"It wasn't just a storm, Alana. That tornado was a spell."

She was silent for more than a few minutes and finally, Alana took a breath, shaking her head slowly. "A spell," she began, "she sounds pretty powerful, this Delilah."

"She took my kid," Dean grunted, staring down the hallway. His eyes were red and glazed over, lost in thought. "She took both our kids."

Whipping around to face him, Alana's brown eyes were wide. "Who?"

Dean's voice was no more than a whisper. "Everett and Levi," he answered, still hiding behind his coffee cup. "They're gone, Serra's hooked up to a ventilator, Grace has lost most of her mojo, and now we're just in this fucking holding pattern because the angels are useless right now, too." He took another drink and tossed his empty coffee cup into the trash can, shaking his head. "I don't even know where to start."

"That's why you haven't had Castiel in here to heal Serra," Alana replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I wondered. Where is he?"

"He and Lucia both are in a teenager's subconscious, trying to learn who she really is."

Nodding slowly with wide eyes, Alana tried to wrap her head around the information Dean was giving her. "In her subconscious," she repeated. "That's new."

"Yeah."

Slowly, Alana reached her hand up to Dean's shoulder, trying to console her friend the best way she could. "You guys are strong, Dean," she began quietly. "You've been through a lot and always come out on top. It'll be okay."

Dean pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth and tried to agree.

Tears welled in Alana's eyes, remembering that both Everett and Levi were missing. "You'll be okay. You'll all be okay," she repeated, pulling Dean into a hug. Slowly, he accepted, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and closing his eyes. "If you need anything else, you let me-"

"What is that?" Dean asked suddenly, interrupting her sentiment. He pulled away from Alana, pointing to the computer screen that was on the counter in the nurses' station.

Turning, Alana followed his line of sight and watched the black and white screen illuminate with a blinding amount of light. "That's the security feed from the ICU," Alana murmured. "That's Serra's hallway."

Dean approached the screen quickly, staring at the feed. Impossibly, the light seemed to get brighter and brighter until he could barely watch without squinting, then, one after another, the fluorescent light bulbs began to explode from the ceiling, glass flying in all directions. Without another moment's hesitation, Dean turned and took off like a shot, running full tilt down the hall towards his sister-in-law's hospital room.

…

Grace

I had developed an annoying habit of pacing around the house while I made phone call after phone call, hoping I would be able to get in touch with more hunters that my family had crossed paths with in the height of our hunting days. I crossed a few more names off my list, either because people were dead or missing, (a common problem for hunters), but more often than not, if they had survived, the hunters that my dad knew were just out of the game, on account of age. I was down to the last two names on my list.

As the phone rang, I closed my eyes, hoping that Santiago Adaka'i was still alive.

"Grace Browning," a quiet voice answered calmly. "How the hell are you?"

I closed my eyes at the greeting, hoping that I would be able to keep my voice steady. "Santi," I whispered. "I am so glad that you picked up the phone."

Chuckling softly, Santiago sounded like he was getting comfortable in order to talk with me. I wondered momentarily how much he had changed since the last time I had seen him.

"You know, Grace," he continued quietly, "this is not my phone any longer. I kept it just for moments like this."

"You kept your phone number just in case I called?"

Santiago smiled, "You are a hard person to forget, Grace."

I could feel the blush in my cheeks, remembering the flirtation that Santiago and I shared from all those years ago. We had never had a relationship, or anything even close, but his brother Miguel and Serra had been hot for about two weeks, when she was busy punishing me by running away after Dad was killed.

"Well, Santi, as flattering as that is, I called for a reason," I continued.

He clicked his tongue, "I have already heard. Peter called me."

I pressed my lips together, shaking my head and staring at my list of hunters. Peter Hillenbrand had yet to call me back after leaving a message almost twenty-four hours ago. _Bastard._

"And what did that asshole have to say?" I said, crossing Peter's name off the list with three harsh, page-tearing pen scratches.

Santiago laughed, "Calm down. He wanted to know if you had called us yet. I told him that I hadn't heard from you yet and that he should probably call you back."

I clicked my tongue. "Yeah, well," I answered, my immediate rage fading, for the moment. It always seemed to be right near the surface lately and I was having a hell of a time controlling it. "I'm calling everyone."

"And you finally got to my name on your list?"

I pushed the pad of paper away from my hand, shaking my head. Santiago knew me better than I thought. "Yeah," I paused, trying to figure out the best way to approach what I needed. "I'm calling because-"

"Because you need our help," Santiago supplied. "Peter told us the message you left." I nodded in reply, even though he couldn't see me. "What is this new 'big bad' that you told him about?"

"She's a real piece of work, Santi," I sighed, glancing up at my daughters as they walked in the back door with Emery and Jody. "We think she's a witch, but she is more powerful than any witch that any of us have ever come up against." I waited until the girls filed downstairs into the basement before I continued. "She almost killed Serra and then took my son and nephew. They're still missing."

"Dios mio," Santiago breathed. "What do you need me to do?"

I took a deep breath, grateful for my unwavering friendship with Santiago, no matter the amount of time that had passed. "I need you to gather everyone you can get. Grab your cousins, friends, anyone that is willing to come. We need you," I whispered. "I need you."

"I'm coming, Grace. We're all coming."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean

Even though the hall was only about a hundred yards away from the nurses' station, I was winded; panicked. Too much had happened, too quickly, and my heart was pounding by the time I skidded to a stop at the end of the hall.

I raised my hands to protect my face from the sparks falling from the ceiling as I continued to jog towards Serra's room. I felt a draft and noticed that the two windows directly in front of Serendipity's room were shattered as well; pieces of glass crunched beneath my boots as I walked slowly down the hall. I reached for my gun in the waistband of my jeans, but it wasn't there. I hadn't been packing regularly since the twins were born. I swore under my breath as I tiptoed down the hall.

"Sam?" I whispered, hoping my brother was conscious. "Sammy?"

"Dean?" he answered, using his full voice. I picked up the pace and jogged to Serra's doorway and squinted into the darkness. The emergency lights had come on, flickering dimly from somewhere behind us. "Dean is that you?"

I nodded, coming quietly into Serra's ICU room. "Jesus, are you okay?" I asked, seeing my brother safely sitting in the chair next to Serra's bed, where I had left him hours ago. "You're bleeding."

Sam touched his forehead, wincing slightly at the pain. "Yeah, yeah," he nodded. "I'm fine. It's from the glass."

"What the hell happened?"

Taking a giant, shaking breath, Sammy shook his head as he turned back towards his wife, who was still unconscious, but laying in an awkward, haphazard way. "Serra," he answered simply.

"Serra?" I asked, moving closer to the bed and reaching to touch her neck with two of my fingers. She had a pulse. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

Sammy was tongue tied, gesturing to Serra vaguely. "I don't know," he continued. "She just…exploded. Literally."

"Sam, take it back a few steps," I ventured, trying to pull Serra back onto her bed. Her head rolled loosely from side to side as I picked her up and set her down carefully, minding the IVs and monitors taped to her arms. "She's breathing and everything looks normal on her monitors. Was she awake?"

Nodding, Sam stared at me; his eyes doing that sad puppy thing.

"What happened, Sam?"

Immediately, tears welled in Sam's eyes and he looked away from me, wiping his face. I occupied my time by fixing Serra's hospital gown, tucking it around her hips modestly and brushing hair from her face. She didn't look any different than she did when I brought him coffee, and she was still out cold.

"Um," Sam began, searching for words, "she, uh, she woke up." I turned to stare at him patiently as I heard the beginnings of doctors and nurses running down the hall, wondering what the hell happened. Glass crunched beneath their feet and blue lights flashed from the hallway, reflecting off of Serra's monitors. "She was awake and we were kind of talking. She spoke a little, still kinda spacey, but she asked about the kids."

I could feel the pain press into my chest like a dull blade, but I stayed silent, holding eye contact with my brother.

"She," Sam breathed, "she tried to sit up and asked where the kids were, and I said that Charlotte was with Grace." He wiped his face again and closed his eyes. "Then she asked about Levi and I, um, I told her." Sammy lost it then, bending at the waist and holding his head with his hands. A raw sob shook my baby brother and slowly, I walked towards him and knelt down.

"What did she do, Sam?" I asked him gently, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Alana was standing in the doorway; a puzzled and terrified look etched into the features of her face.

Gaining control, Sam gasped and sat up slightly, wiping his face on the back of his hand. He looked about seven years old again, and the dull blade of emotion pressed harder into my chest. "She was sitting up and closed her eyes," he whispered. "Her whole face tensed up, like she was in pain." Sammy's reddened eyes flicked up to me and searched my expression. "She gripped the sheets and the blankets and cried out, leaning her head back and then," he shook his head slowly. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it."

"What, Sam?"

"It was her. She lit up the room, she broke the windows. She popped the lights," he replied. "It was like Grace was laying there in bed, not able to control her abilities. Light came from her like she was producing it, just like the angels. Just like Grace and Everett. The room shook and her machines overloaded." He paused, gesturing towards the steady beep that came from Serendipity's ventilator. "The generators kicked on after they got over their surges."

"Serra did all this?" I repeated dumbly. "How?"

There was more yelling coming from the hallway; nurses and doctors questioning about how the electrical surge happened and how soon they could get main power back on line. Janitors were headed up to the ICU to clean up the glass and Alana still stood, completely silent, watching the exchange.

Swallowing hard, Sammy shook his head; his long, floppy hair falling into his face. "I don't know, Dean, but it was her. I saw it happen."

"What happened after that?"

Sam's eyes flicked towards his wife, "She passed out." He shrugged. "Then you showed up."

I licked my lips as I stared at my sister-in-law. "Well," I sighed, "that's new."

…

I waited on the phone in the hall, stepping around the piles of broken glass as the janitors replaced the fluorescent light bulbs above me. I nodded and smiled tightly at one of the workers as I made my way back to the ICU waiting room as Alana checked Serra's sutures and vitals after her epic meltdown.

"Come on, Gracie," I muttered. "Answer the phone."

Breathless, Grace's voice finally came over the speaker, "Hey," she greeted. "I'm on the phone with Santiago," she explained. "Can I call you right back?"

"No," I answered, glancing behind me and moving away from the workers. "You need to get down here."

"What?" Grace's voice elevated, "What's wrong? Is Serra okay?"

I tilted my head and licked my lips, unsure of how to explain the situation over the phone, so I skipped it altogether. "She's fine, but get down here, pronto. There's something you need to see."

"I'll be there in ten," she whispered, hanging up immediately. I pocketed my phone and rubbed my face, wondering what the hell was happening now.

…

Grace was practically running by the time she got up to the ICU and I got up to greet her before she ran down the hall towards her sister.

"What happened?" she gasped, "What is it?"

I led her towards Alana at the nurses' station, still empty after Serra's epic meltdown. "I was up here, talking to Alana and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed this," I explained, leading Grace up to the monitors that were lined up on the back counter of the station. "This angle," I continued, pointing to the middle screen, "shows the view that leads towards your sister's room."

Alana took a breath, pointing. "This is the AED station that's right outside," she added. "So this is her doorway, right here."

Grace nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, looking confused. "Okay," she ventured. "So?"

Lifting my eyebrows, I gestured towards the screen with my head, still watching the black and white screen. "Just watch," I replied quietly.

Slowly, the numbers on the bottom of the screen ticked forward, showing the timestamp. Grace took a deep breath, trying to stay patient, but there was so much on her mind that she was having a hard time staying focused. She glanced at me, lifting her eyebrows.

"Almost," I commented, holding up my finger.

Suddenly, the screen filled with light as the monitor replayed what I had seen, not thirty minutes before. Grace leaned forward, furrowing her eyebrows and trying to see what was responsible for the bright white light. As she watched, the fluorescent light bulbs began to pop, one right after the other, and in the background, two windows exploded; sending glass flying out into the hallway. Right around here, I remembered taking off towards Serra's room, intent on finding the thing that had to have caused the damage. Grace was on the same track as me, whipping towards me and opening her mouth in surprise.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, pointing. She turned as if she was going to take off towards Serra's room, but my hand stopped her.

"That," I began sighing, "was your sister."

Grace was already shaking her head in disbelief. "No," she answered. "That light was angelic, with the lights bursting. I just did it to Emery's kitchen. There had to have been someone in the room with her."

I shrugged. "Just Sammy," I replied. "He watched, or tried to watch, the whole thing happen."

"No," Grace repeated, turning again towards the screen. "No, that's not possible."

Leaning on the counter, watching the recording as it continued, I could see myself running down the hall as sparks continued to fall to the tile. The screen version of me held up his arms, shielding his face, and slowed down enough not to slip and fall on the broken pieces of glass.

"It is, Gracie," I whispered. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Alana move towards the end of the counter. She could sense that we would need some time together to talk this out, so she quietly exited the nurses' station, most likely to check on Serendipity. I took another breath, hanging my head as I continued, "Sam told me that she woke up long enough to ask about the kids. He told her that Charlie was safe, but then she asked about Lee."

Grace's blue eyes were filled with tears, listening to the story without looking at me. Her gaze was still locked onto the recording, refusing to make eye contact.

I continued, trying to be as gentle as I could, "Sammy told Serra what happened, that the boys were gone, and," I held out my hand, gesturing to the monitor. "And, well. She took it about as well as we could have hoped."

Whipping around to look at me, Grace shook her head again, "No," she repeated. "How could she have done that? She has never shown _any_ sign of being angelic. And why now? Why all of a sudden would she have abilities like that?"

I pressed my lips together, shrugging lightly again. "I don't know, gorgeous," I answered quietly. "Maybe it's a balance thing. You're not exactly on your game right now; maybe your sister can pick up your slack when you're out of mojo."

"That's never happened before."

"You've never been sapped like this before."

Grace shook her head again, furrowing her eyebrows. Without another word, she turned and strode through the waiting room and pushed her way through the swinging doors leading to the ICU. I followed her wake, wishing for someone, anyone, to give me an explanation that made sense.

God, I missed Bobby.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Castiel

Lucia and I crouched in darkness, waiting for the witches to pass us by. They had been following us for hours and we were no closer to finding our way out of Sabina's subconscious. So far, we had managed to avoid any interaction that would have been detrimental to our safety, but I was at an absolute loss as to what to do in order to get home, back to our vessels. It seemed that we were locked here.

Pausing to look up at me, Lucia pushed her long, blonde hair out of her face and suddenly, it occurred to me how much Grace resembled the angel in front of me and I had never wanted to protect another angel as much as I wanted to protect the Seraph. Momentarily, I wondered if this is what it meant to be in love with another creature.

"Castiel," Lucia whispered. "We do not have time to be thinking along those lines at this moment in time." She pushed me forward, hoping to get me running again, but I hesitated. "We have not seen each other in months. What makes you think this way right now? It hardly seems the appropriate time."

I paused and listened to the wilderness of Sabina's mind for many moments before deciding to answer. When I had decided that we were as safe as we could be for the time, I turned towards the Seraph standing next to me.

"Grace and I have had many," I paused and tilted my head, realizing just how much we had discussed our relationship, "many, many discussions about our relationship with each other and what it means to love and be in love with someone else."

Lucia tilted her head, seemingly confused. "We are celestial beings, Castiel. We cannot experience romantic love, not in the way you are describing."

"We can," I argued, but immediately ducked and pulled Lucia down with me when I heard the crack of a twig off to my left. I held Lucia's hand, reassuring her or myself, I didn't know. We sat, waiting silently in the darkness for the danger to pass. I could hear the witches whispering to each other, still looking for us in the woods.

"Have you any idea what she will do to us if we do not find the angels or worse, they somehow break the spell and escape?" a voice whispered to her companion. "There will be no spell to save us from her wrath."

"We will find them, Sasha," the other voice answered, still keeping her voice lowered. "We will find them and kill them, just as she wishes us to."

"How can you be so confident?" Sasha asked, cracking another twig as she walked through the forest. She was clumsily giving away her position and I couldn't help but wonder if it was a trap.

Lucia turned and nodded at my thought, pointing behind us, away from the witches' voices. I agreed, feeling that somehow, they were throwing their voices; tricking us into thinking they were in front of us. As the voices continued to stay ahead, almost moving forward, I decided to throw caution into the wind and follow the voices. Lucia didn't hesitate, falling into silent step beside me, still clasping my hand.

Soon, we passed the sound of the women's voices without incident, confirming that it had been a spell. We would not be tricked. From where we stood, I could see the sunlight filter through the trees, beckoning us onward, into the open fields. This was close to the entrance where I had traveled with Grace, upon entering Sabina's mind in the first place.

"This is close to our entrance point," I whispered as I turned to check the path we had left behind us. "Maybe if we get back to our origin point, we will be able to reverse the lock her mind has on us."

Lucia took a very human breath and shook her head slowly. "Our position in her mind shouldn't make a difference, Castiel. We should be able to find our vessels without being in one point or another," Lucia sighed as she turned to stare at me, her ocean blue eyes examining my face. "Have you felt romantic love, Castiel?"

Her abrupt change in subject forced me to meet her gaze. "I- " I faded away, trying to think of how to articulate what I felt. "I have felt, _I feel_ , very deep love for the Winchester children, Faith especially, and for the entire Winchester family."

"That bond is different than romantic love," Lucia commented, tilting her head.

Raising my eyes to stare at the tree line behind her, I considered how to proceed. "I have not experienced it as of yet, but I am wondering if I am beginning to."

We both seemed to realize that we were out in the open and exposed at the same time. I pulled Lucia to the safety of the nearest set of trees, naturally tucking her body behind mine for safety. I felt that we were alone, but I knew we didn't have long before we needed to move.

Again, I wondered why I felt the need to have this conversation while we were under such duress.

"Lucia," I began, my voice sinking to a whisper. "I think that if I could feel romantic love for anyone, it would be for you."

She stared at me, considering what I had said for longer than I felt comfortable. I finally looked away, feeling the awkwardness of the situation. "Castiel," she answered, "are you seeing me or are you seeing Grace?"

I was immediately taken aback, confused as to why she would ask something like that, especially considering how many times we had established to other people that Grace and I were friends and nothing more. Before I had a chance to answer her, my senses were suddenly alight as a billowing, shimmering, invisible wave seemed to come creeping towards us, searching. I knew it was a spell, attempting to seek out our location. Not taking the chance to answer Lucia's question, I pulled her into movement once again.

We ran.

…

Grace tapped lightly on the doorframe of Serendipity's hospital room and Sam looked up, raising his eyebrows to greet her. As she entered the room, Sam noticed that Grace seemed dull; her posture had rounded, her hair was darker than he was used to, and her eyes were missing the sparkle that usually lit her face from the inside. Grace looked ill and Sam was very worried.

"Hey," Grace whispered as she approached her sister, who still lay unconscious on the bed. Her monitors had been given the once over from the lead nurses and given the okay that they were still reading her vitals accurately. She waited at the foot of Serra's bed, hesitant to make eye contact with Sam.

Sam pressed his lips together, giving his best attempt at a smile.

"She been awake?"

Taking a deep breath and sitting up a little straighter, Sam huffed out the breath of air he had been holding. "Not since," he waved his hand vaguely around the room. "You see the tape?"

Grace nodded, silent. "I saw it," she whispered. "And I'm still not sure if I believe it."

Standing slowly from his chair, Sam stretched and walked towards Grace, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Grace," he sighed. "I don't know how to explain it, but it happened. It's like you were the one in that bed: light coming from every orifice. The lights popped, the windows blew out…" he faded away and shook his head slowly. "She raged for a good fifteen seconds, and then passed out again."

There was a knock on the doorway again and both Sam and Grace turned to see who the newcomer was. Julie, the nurse that assisted during Serra's emergency surgery, stood respectfully in the light of the entrance, holding an IV tube and a transfusion cart. "Hi," she greeted quietly. "She's due for another transfusion so we can continue to get her blood pressure up." Julie looked from Sam to Grace, "Who's up for it this time?"

"I got it," Grace replied, stepping forward towards the chair on the opposite side of Serra's bed. "You did it last and you still look like you could use another protein bar or two, Sammy," Grace lifted her eyebrows and sat down, setting her leather purse on the table beside Serra's bed. "At least I had a full meal this morning."

"No offense, Grace," Sam argued, "but you still look like shit."

Pressing her lips together, Grace nodded. "Thanks for that," she sighed. "I think I just feel a bit more human than normal."

"A human, trying to mother six kids," Sammy chuckled momentarily, but then seemed to remember that two of the children were missing. He took a gasping breath, looking away from his sister-in-law. "God, I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't mean-"

"To be normal?" Grace replied, raising her eyebrows. "It's okay, Sam. We'll get them back."

Sammy didn't answer, but instead rubbed his face and stared at the floor as Julie set up the IV between the sisters and then rolled the transfusion cart towards the head of the bed, out of the way.

"Okay, Grace," Julie sighed, trying to stay out of the conversation and the lasting sadness that seemed to suffocate the room. "We'll go for two hours this time. I'll be back in about an hour to check both of you," Julie explained. "Text me or Alana if you start to get light headed." She turned and glided silently out of the room.

"Thank you, Julie," Grace whispered as she turned to stare at her sister. Moments passed quietly, with just the sound of the machine pumping away, and finally Grace took a breath and turned to stare at Sam. "You can stop blaming yourself any time now," she whispered. "I may not be able to hear your thoughts, but it's radiating off of you."

Sammy looked up at his sister-in-law and sighed slowly. "I'm trying not to," he answered, shaking his head. "But when your kid is missing and your wife is close to death…it's a little hard not to get pulled into the sadness-guilt-loop."

Pressing her lips together, Grace nodded as she let herself stare off into the distance. "I wish I knew what was going on with me," she continued, almost to herself. "It's got to be some kind of spell."

"I would have never guessed that a spell could dampen your abilities," Sam answered, turning to face her. "You still can't get anything from Dean's Mark?"

Grace shook her head.

"A spell then, it's gotta be," he nodded slowly, running his hands through his long hair. "She's got us backed into a corner, doesn't she?"

"She's planned it better than we ever anticipated, that's for sure," Grace replied. She heard footsteps behind her and smiled gently at her husband as he leaned in the doorway. "The timing," Grace continued, glancing up at Dean. "I can't get over the timing."

"Timing?" Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gesturing to the room, Grace lifted her eyebrows, "The storm gets you, Serra, and Sam away from the kids, Cas and I were locked in Sabina's mind until he shoots me back, but I trade places with Lucia. Then," Grace took a deep breath, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. "The angels are locked in Sabina, we all get bamfed to the hospital with Serra, who has tried to die four times on us, separated from the kids…" she shook her head again. "It just seemed like Delilah planned out everything to the minute or we have had some of the most unlucky timing of our lives."

"I don't want to give her that much credit," Sam answered, standing and walking towards his wife, touching her hair gently. "She's just a witch. We can take her."

Silence wrapped its way through the room, but slowly, Dean took a deep breath, his low, deep voice pushing the silence away. "What if she's not?" he asked.

"What if she's not what?" Sammy replied, turning to stare at his brother.

Dean tilted his head, "A witch."

Grace turned in her chair to face Dean, her eyebrows knitted together. "What else could she be?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Levi

My head hurt.

It was the only thing I could really think about because I was so tired, and I woke up laying in the dark, which makes it hard to think about anything else.

Slowly, I sat up and tried to see where I was, but everything was so dark, it felt like my eyes weren't even open. "Everett?" I asked, but my voice bounced back at me, sounding very far away. I had gotten separated from him and for the first time, I was scared.

Getting up was hard. It was like I weighed more than I did and the floor kept pulling me down. Finally, I was able to stand, but my head hurt so much, the first thing I wanted to do was sit down again. I wanted Momma, or Daddy…or Auntie Grace, or Uncle Dean.

There was light shining behind me, coming from the crack in the door. I turned and walked very slowly towards it with my hands out in front of me like I was blind. "Everett?" I whispered. "Momma?"

From the other side of the door, there was movement and I could hear a lady say, "The boy is awake. Has she decided what she wants to do with him?"

I _knew_ Auntie Grace would never have called us from behind a closed door. Everett was wrong, and now we were somewhere, away from Momma and Daddy and everyone. Slowly backing away from the door, I felt around on the ground for the knife I knew I had when we had been taken from Auntie's house, but it was nowhere to be found. Looking around, I tried to find anything that could be used as a weapon, but it seemed like the only things that were near me were big wooden crates. I considered them for a minute and thought how easily we could make them into a fort, but shaking my head, I realized that I needed to stay focused, even though my head hurt so badly.

Suddenly, the door swung open, letting in more light than my mind knew what to do with. My eyes felt like they were on fire and I closed them, turning away from the door. "Levi, come here," a soft female voice greeted. "I have no reason to hurt you."

Turning, I squinted, trying to see who was talking to me, but the light was so bright, I couldn't see her, and I stayed where I was.

Slowly, she took a step forward and I stared at her shadow as I took a step back. She had shoulder length, wavy hair that swung in the light, looking almost red. Her clothes were tight and she wore a leather jacket along with boots that went up to her knees.

More out of shock than anything, I whispered, "You're Delilah."

She knelt down, giggling quietly at me, "You are very intelligent, Levi, and so very clever," she complimented. "Of course you would be, being the son of Sam and Serendipity Winchester. I had no doubt."

My eyes were adjusting to the bright light and I was beginning to be able to make out details about her face and hands as she made her way closer to me. Her fingers were long and her nails were well taken care of. She had fiery red hair that was in loose curls that hung against her face. She was very pretty.

I hated her.

"My mom is going to kill you," I whispered, taking another step back.

Delilah took a deep breath though her nose and tilted her head slowly. "She wouldn't dare, sweetheart," she answered quietly. "Not while I have you."

"It won't matter," I added. "She'll come and get me. She will come and get both of us and then, then she will kill you."

Delilah stood up to her full height and as I watched her move elegantly and upright, like a dancer, and I had a glimmer of familiarity, like I knew her, or at least like I _felt_ that I knew her. Similar in some way to someone I knew. She took a deep breath, smiling gently, and tilted her head slowly to the side, trying to win me over. She held her hands in front of herself, and stared at me longer than was comfortable. It hit me hard, like when Libby would tackle me when we played together: she moved like Lucia.

…

Grace

I was exhausted. After forcing Sam to go with Dean down to the cafeteria to find some food, I sat in the chair next to Serra's bed and tried to focus on the rhythmic pumping of the machine that stood next to us, transfusing our blood. I felt weaker, but no more than I had the first time around during her surgery. Making a mental note to stop and get something to eat on the way home (for me and the rest of the family), I heard the faintest rustling of sheets. I whipped my head up to see that my sister had finally opened her eyes.

"Hey, Little," I whispered, leaning closer to her and reaching out with my IV-free hand. "How's it going?" Serra's dark hazel eyes were glazed over as if she wasn't completely lucid and I tried unsuccessfully to move my chair closer to her bedside. "Sere?" I asked, touching her arm gently, "Can you hear me?"

She furrowed her eyebrows and closed her eyes, trying her best to open her mouth to answer me. Grunting and trying to readjust, she took a deep gasping breath at the pain that hit her suddenly.

"Wait, wait, wait," I whispered, standing very slowly. "Don't go trying to move. You're gonna rip your stitches or something." Serendipity grunted again and threw me a look I knew to be very dangerous. "Serra, stop," I repeated firmly, holding her shoulder to keep her in place. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

Giving up for the time being, Serra leaned back into the pillows and grimaced. "'S dat?" she asked, her speech slurred together. She pointed vaguely with a finger towards the machine that still happily pumped away.

"It's a transfusion machine," I answered quietly, allowing my eyes to flick up to her monitors. Serra's heart rate was elevated, but still in the safe zone.

"'Fusion 'chine?" she asked, raising her eyebrows comically.

"Yeah," I nodded, sitting back into my chair. She was staying in bed, for the moment at least. "Yeah, me and Sammy both have given you blood over the last couple of days. You lost about four pints during your surgery." I paused, licking my lips. "You remember what happened?"

Serendipity's eyes closed for longer than seemed necessary and I wondered momentarily if she had fallen back to sleep, but then she opened them forcibly and they were filled with tears. "Tree," she whispered. "'Nado."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah," I agreed. "There was a tornado at the house. The lightning struck and split the oak tree in half." I scrunched up my nose, controlling the emotion that stung the back of my throat. "That damn tree tried to kill you."

Serra's chin warbled as she watched me fight the sobs that threatened to escape my chest. Finally, she took a deep breath through her nose and whispered, "Fucker."

I laughed then, tears spilling down my cheeks. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and gained control as much as I could. "Yeah," I giggled. "Fucking tree."

"'S comin' down," she added, a tear streaming down her cheek as she stared at me from her bed. "Imma getta chainsaw. Bring da res' down."

"One thing at a time, there, kiddo," I smiled. "How about you finish healing up first? Priorities."

We were silent for more than a few minutes and then Serra squeezed my hand, forcing me to make eye contact with her. "'S true?" she whispered.

I didn't have to ask what she meant. I nodded slowly.

"How?" she asked, her voice finding strength.

Licking my lips, I stared down at my feet, shaking my head. "I don't know," I answered finally. "They were in the panic room. They were sealed in." Flicking my eyes up to my sister I took a deep breath. "When I left them to come out to you and the boys in the storm, I left the kids in the middle of a sigil and I heard Lib lock the door behind me. Crowley was on the outside."

Slowly, Serra closed her eyes and more tears leaked out from beneath her eyelids. From her position on the bed, she whispered, "'S much as I hate to admit it, don't think it was Crowley."

"I know. Me neither."

"Gonna kill her, Grace," Serra whispered as she wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Gonna peel the skin from her body and then burn her alive."

I could hear the rage come slowly back into my little sister's voice as she regained consciousness completely, and as she closed her eyes, the bed seemed to shake. She continued quietly, with her eyes still closed.

"I am going to hunt her until she runs out of places to hide. I am going to flush out every ally and torture them until I get the information I need," Serra was whispering, gripping the sheets of her hospital bed and doing what she could to stay in control of the anger that was flowing out of her very soul. The lights above me flickered and I watched her heart rate continue to rise as she spoke.

"Serra," I whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Stop and look. Do you see what you're doing?" I pointed to the lights and asked, "How are you doing that?"

Her eyes opened and the flickering stopped immediately, and I got a very confused look from my sister. "What?" she asked.

"The lights and windows from earlier; when Sammy told you about Levi and Everett? Do you remember that?"

Serra furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head slowly. "Lights?" she asked, looking around. "What are you talking about?"

I licked my lips and shook my head slowly. "Nothing," I sighed. "Don't worry about it."

"Grace," she warned. "This is not the time to start holding secrets. We're at war."

"When Sammy told you," I breathed, "when you reacted: a blinding light came from your mouth and eyes and ears, like the angels when they show their true voices. Like I have in the past. You shattered the light bulbs and windows."

Serra was shaking her head, disbelieving.

"I didn't believe it either," I continued. "But it's on tape. The hall has a security camera that faces your direction. Sammy told us what happened and it matched what is on the recording."

"How?" she asked. "How is that possible? You're the one that can do shit like that."

I raised my eyebrows and pressed my lips together. "Not right now," I sighed. "I can't heal you. I can't hear you." I shrugged and glanced at the transfusion machine as it pumped away. "I can't hear any of my kids. I can't hear Dean or Sam. I've got nothing."

Abruptly, Serra reached forward to touch the bare skin on my hand, staring up at me with her dark eyes. "Can you hear me now?" she asked, a smile touching the corners of her mouth as she repeated the cell phone commercial's mantra.

I shook my head sadly. "No three seconds of insight," I sighed. "I feel…human."

There was a tap on the doorway and we both turned to see the visitor. Julie stood with a chart in her hands and smiled happily as she made eye contact with Serra, "You're awake!" she grinned. "I'll call the doctors so they can come up and check your sutures and vitals."

Knowing the conversation about our abilities was far from over; Serra relented for the time being and smiled tightly at the nurse.

"You're about done here, honey," Julie said as she carefully removed the needle from my arm. "And now that your sister is conscious, she'll be able to keep her blood pressure up by getting something into her system besides a saline drip."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Grace

"Okay, Serra," the doctor sighed, flipping his chart closed as he stared at my sister. "You're out of critical, but you need to take it easy. For the next week or two while you're here, it's imperative that you get enough rest and you get your strength up so you can start physical therapy when we are able to take out your sutures."

"Week or two?" my sister repeated, her mouth hanging open slightly. "How long am I going to have to be here?"

I glanced at the doctor as I closed my eyes, wishing more than anything that I suddenly had my abilities back and could heal her. We needed to get moving if we were going to ever find Everett and Levi.

He sighed then, taking his glasses down to the tip of his nose with Sam waiting nervously from behind her bed and Dean lurking silently in the doorway. "Serendipity," he took a deep breath and lowered the clipboard to his hip. "You're lucky to be alive. Your spine is going to need another surgery or two in order to not have lasting damage, especially if you want to ever come back to work." He threw a knowing look towards Sam. "Everyone misses her down in the NICU."

I knew from experience that the last thing on my sister's mind was coming back to work. I would have to fight tooth and nail for her to return to any sense of normalcy once we had her healed and right now, I'd be lucky if I could ever get her back in the NICU at all.

Letting her head fall back into the pile of pillows behind her, Serra reached up with both hands to cover her face. She was frustrated, exhausted, and an all around emotional mess. We all were.

"Okay," I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Okay, one thing at a time. How soon can we get her home and in her own bed?"

The doctor shrugged and tilted his head. "I'd give her another two weeks, at least, before we can have the second surgery on her spinal column."

"Two _weeks?"_ Serra looked like she could have broken down in tears right then and there.

I struggled to keep my eyes away from Serra's face. I knew for a fact that if I made eye contact with my sister, I would end up a puddle of tears as well. "Okay, thank you," I breathed, hoping this was the end of our conversation. I needed to talk to my family.

The doctor nodded curtly and took another breath, "I will send Alana up here soon. I know you all are close and she's more than qualified to care for your injuries."

"Thanks," Dean repeated for me as the doctor glided out the door, shutting it softly behind him.

Serra covered her face with her hands once more and practically screamed, " _Two weeks!"_ She glanced at me, tears filling her eyes. "Two weeks and they could be in the wind. We could lose any trail that might be there…we could lose them forever."

"Serra, stop," I said, standing and walking towards her. "Your spine is broken, you have a hole in your lung, and four broken ribs. Getting all worked up is _not_ going to solve anything." Standing next to her, I touched her arms, forcing them back to the bed. "You need to stay calm. We all just need to stay calm."

"Calm?" Sam asked. "You can't tell us to stay calm, Grace. We have every right not to be calm, here."

"Sam," I answered, shaking my head, "trust me. I get it. My kid's missing too, remember? I don't have my abilities, I can't hear anyone, my sister died on the operating table four _fucking_ times, and our best friend is locked in someone's subconscious." I ran my hands through my hair and shook my head, closing my eyes. "We need to stay calm because she _wants_ us to panic. She _wants_ us to act before we think." I turned to stare at my sister and brother-in-law. "She wants us lose our heads and get ourselves killed."

Dean stepped forward for the first time, coming close to me and standing in front of me protectively. He licked his lips, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "We're gonna get our chance," he answered dangerously. "Grace has been calling every hunter she can get a hold of and asking for help. We have people coming."

"To do what?" Serra asked. "We don't even know what we're hunting. We have no direction and no purpose, especially until we can figure out how to get me out of this bed and get a bead on where that bitch might even be."

"We're going to start with some research," I supplied. "And while the hunters are researching, we're going to get everything set in our lives so it can keep running with minimal maintenance."

Serra furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"We have lives after this, Serra," Dean answered. "We have the shop and Sam has a classroom. You have the NICU. We need to be able to keep the kids in school, safely, with the ability to come back to our normal lives."

Sam shook his head. "There is going to be no normal after this, Dean. You know that."

"There has to be, Sammy," Dean replied. "There has to be, for our kids' sake."

…

Everett

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked again, pushing a bowl of stinky porridge at me for the fifth time. "You've been sitting there for so long. You have to be hungry by now. You need to keep up your strength for her."

"Who's her?" I asked, folding my arms. "Delilah? I want to see her. I want to talk to her." I furrowed my eyebrows and leaned towards the woman holding the bowl. "I don't like you."

The woman in the dark purple dress took a deep breath and sighed heavily, like Momma when she was frustrated with me. "Not until you eat something," she answered.

My arm hurt. That usually only meant one thing, and suddenly, I realized how much I missed my baby sister. Faith could always keep me calm.

"No," I repeated, leaning my head forward stubbornly. The stones on the floor near my feet vibrated as my mood shifted. "Delilah."

"Eat first," the woman repeated.

I could feel the familiar heat rise inside my belly, and for the first time in my life, I didn't try to stop the fury that built inside my body. The stones that lay on the ground bounced as I felt the surge rise all the way from the bottoms of my feet. It boiled up through my legs and arms, through my ribs and neck, and finally, I took a deep breath and held it, narrowing my eyes. "Levi then," I demanded.

"Sit, eat, and behave yourself," she answered, rolling her eyes.

The explosion that I released was deafening, for those without ears to handle it, anyway. The rocks on the floor became dust. The stone walls echoed with the force of my tantrum, and for the first time, I felt like I could control the way I released my anger.

The woman in the purple dress hit the opposite wall, hard, collapsing in a heap of fabric as I tilted my head to stare at her. She made me angry. I hated her. I was happy to see that the bowl of porridge that she kept shoving in my face had shattered, leaving an ugly mess all over her dress.

Turning in a complete circle, I took a deep breath and scratched absentmindedly at the Mark on my arm. It only burned a little, but overall, I felt better, like the Mark approved of how I handled my rage. As I made a full circle, I saw that I had damaged the steel door that held me in my cell.

The Mark was proud of me.

…

Castiel

"I don't know what else to do," Lucia was saying, shaking her head slowly. "The spell that holds us; how are we going to find the source with limited abilities?"

I shook my head, considering as many possibilities as I could. There was no other option I could think of that didn't involve being able to communicate with Grace. From what I could tell, we had no contact to the outside, conscious world. I was at a loss as well.

"We just have to keep moving," I whispered, clutching Lucia's hand. "As long as we stay away from the witches, we should be able to stay alive long enough for the Winchesters to call us back."

"You are very confident in their abilities."

I licked my lips, staring down at the Seraph, "They have yet to disappoint me."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Grace

Serra was asleep again, which allowed us to take a moment to relax, at least enough for Sammy to fall asleep on the cot next to her bed. I took a deep breath, glancing around the room, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my sister was responsible for the broken windows and light bulbs. I just didn't understand how it was possible.

A touch on my lower back forced me to turn. I closed my eyes and sighed heavily, seeing that Dean had been able to approach me without my senses being alerted: I was still flying blind, so to speak.

"Hey gorgeous," he whispered, greeting me quietly. "I've gotta go to the shop for a few hours. I haven't been in a couple of days and we've got some parts coming in from Des Moines."

I was already nodding, knowing that if we didn't maintain Winchester Family Auto, it would collapse in on itself as well; just like everything else in our lives currently. "Yeah," I agreed. "Yeah, now that Serra is stable, I'm going to go home and wrap up my call list. You have anyone that you wanna add?"

"I already called a couple, but no one picked up," Dean answered. "All our friends are dead."

Bringing my list out of my pocket, I unfolded it and pointed, "You wrote a name here, but I can barely read it. Donna?"

"Donna Hanscum," Dean answered, "Sheriff out of Stillwater, Minnesota. We go way back."

I nodded and searched for the pen I knew was in my purse. "Did you hear back from her?" I asked, finally finding the ballpoint pen and uncapping it with my teeth.

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, she's the only one," he answered, glancing up at Alana as she approached. "Didn't even let me finish my sentence when I asked." I crossed out Dean's handwriting and rewrote Donna Hanscum neatly on the line underneath the last name on my list, then drew a star next to her name.

"Please tell me that both of you are going home to get some sleep," Alana greeted. "You look like hell."

"I wish," Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I haven't seen the kids in about twelve hours, but I've gotta go to the shop."

Pressing her lips together, Alana looked upset. "Dean, you need to go home and get some rest so you can start getting after the boys."

"I have to maintain the shop," Dean repeated. "We lose the shop; we lose the income and ability to chase the boys."

I stared at Alana, knowing that she was considering something, but with my sudden loss of abilities, I was unable to tell what she was thinking. Finally, she took a deep breath and shook her head. "Look," she began, holding out her hands, "I know you trust Stuart. You promoted him last year."

Dean and I exchanged glances, obviously missing how Alana knew our floor manager, Stuart. "How do you know that?" Dean asked, tilting his head.

"My dad and Stu's older brother went to high school together. When you bought the shop off my dad, he mentioned it to Stuart, knowing that he was looking for a job, and since you were inexperienced, you were gonna need all the help you could get."

"Thanks," Dean sighed, rolling his eyes.

Alana smiled and shook her head. "Anyway," she continued, "I know Stu is a good guy. He knows more than he lets on about the two of you and has the ability to keep it to himself. He can run the front of the house like it's nothing."

"Yeah, but what about the back of the house?" I asked, lifting my eyebrows. "I haven't figured out how to be there as often as we need to be in order to keep it moving."

"I talked to my dad last night," Alana replied, wringing her hands together. "Every since you saved him from that werewolf…he would do literally anything for you guys." She glanced up at Dean, who was staring at me, his mouth agape. "Have my dad come out of retirement for you until this all blows over. Have him run the paperwork, the back of house stuff, and he'll keep that shop from going under."

"Doug would do that?" Dean asked, turning back towards Alana. "After all these years, Doug would come back and run the shop that I bought from him?"

Alana's eyebrows knitted together, almost as if her feelings were hurt, "Of course he would, Dean. You have people; people that care about you. About all of you." Alana's dark brown eyes filled with tears and she blinked, forcing them down her cheeks. "The Winchester family leaves quite an impression."

Without saying a word, I held out my arms, wrapping them around Alana's shoulders. Dean followed suit almost immediately, wrapping us both in a warm hug. I felt him swallow as he rested his head on top of mine, holding back the emotion that I knew was always right there, front and center these days.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you so much."

…

Grace

The yellow, lined piece of paper from the shop that I had been carrying around in my pocket for the last few days was beginning to look faded and torn after being folded and unfolded countless times. There were plenty of names written on the list, some with stars, but more often, with lines through the hunters' names. So far, I only had about six hunters coming to our rescue, but there was a strong possibility that Santiago and Tulley would bring friends or family with them.

I stared at the last name on my list.

The knot in my chest tightened as I held my phone, gritting my teeth. I hadn't actually _talked_ to Bill Griffin in almost ten years, though he had once been one of my father's closest friends and confidants. When Dad was killed, it's like a part of me died with him; closing off every emotion I could control. Why I hadn't utilized Billy more often during my early twenties was beyond me; it just seemed too painful at the time. I had managed to at least stay in contact; sending wedding announcements and change-of-address postcards, birth announcements and printed photos, but Billy had never written back. I hoped, more than anything, that it was as simple as him being angry with me for not picking up the fucking phone, and not something more detrimental, like him being dead.

I licked my lips, closing my eyes and began to dial his phone number. It was still, to this day, the only one besides Serra's that I still remembered by heart.

As I listened to the other end ring, the tightness in my chest was almost too much to bear, but suddenly, the line opened and a familiar voice came through as clearly as the last time I talked with him.

"Hello, there, angel," Billy Griffin greeted, a knowing smile in his voice. "Took you long enough."

The lungful of air I was holding came out in a sob, completely losing my cool as soon as I heard his deep, gravelly voice. For the first time since Everett and Levi had been taken, I cried hard enough for my head and stomach to hurt. I took deep, gasping breaths, and continued to sob pathetically into the phone. Billy waited patiently, knowing this was the first time I had let down my guard. He just knew that's how I worked.

"You about done?" he asked finally, when I blew my nose for the third time.

Still, I had no words for him.

"Angel?" he asked gently. "Come on now, I didn't mean it like that."

I squeezed my eyes shut, nodding silently.

"You've gotta give me something here," Billy continued. "I know you're still there. Those minutes are still counting away on this screen of mine."

"I'm here," I whispered, finally able to push a coherent thought through the phone. "I'm here."

Bill smiled. "There's that familiar voice," he whispered. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah," I managed, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I was happy with my choice to make this call from the sanctuary of my purple Chevelle, out in the barn. "Yeah, I know it has been. I'm so sorry, Bill."

"No need to be sorry, angel," he answered. "Life got busy."

I laughed, despite the situation, "Busy," I repeated, nodding slowly. "Yeah, busy." I fiddled with the yellow sheet of paper in my hands, trying to find the words to continue. I remembered now why Bill Griffin had been at the bottom of my list.

The pawnshop in Deerhead, Kansas had been our go-to for supplies for hunting anything supernatural. Billy had been the most knowledgeable person we had in our group of hunter friends, always with the correct tool or weapon or ingredient in order to make the kill. Billy had even supplied us with the weapons that we still had: Serra's twin silver-on-black, Colt forty-fives came from Griffin Pawn, along with my own forty-five, The Judge. They were infallible weapons, saving our lives countless times.

He had been more than that, though. Billy had been there for late-night phone calls, research questions, and general encouragement throughout our teen lives, but our contact ended abruptly when I didn't know what to say anymore after Dad was killed. It just seemed too painful to hear the voice that I associated with my father.

That same paralysis came back with a vengeance. I shook my head, having no idea even where to begin with the seemingly never-ending saga that our lives had become. Billy seemed to understand and gave me the opening I had been waiting for.

"Santiago called me," he ventured. "Said you were gathering up as many hunters as you could find."

"I'm sorry I haven't called you sooner. Like," I took a deep, ragged breath. "Like ten years ago."

Billy clicked his tongue as I heard keys jingling in the background. "Honey," he started, "you have four beautiful children, a husband, a ranch, and an auto shop to look after. I ain't upset that you haven't picked up the phone."

"I sent you cards and letters," I gasped. "And photos."

Smiling wistfully, Billy looked up and stared at the bulletin board behind his register, covered in photos of all six of the Winchester children, Grace and Serra in wedding dresses; photos with handsome men standing beside their women with pride, wedding announcements and snapshots. "I know you did, angel," he breathed. "I'm starin' at every single one of them."

"You're not angry?" I ventured.

"I could never be angry with you, honey," he answered. "I'm just glad you called."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sam

"The sooner you do what the doctors say, the sooner you'll get to do this process at home," I was saying as I helped Serra to the edge of the bed to do her morning exercises. I use the term loosely, though, considering that incrementally stretching from right to left twenty times was as much as her body could handle.

"All we need to do," Serra grunted as she leaned left again, "is get the angels out of Sabina's mind and this all will be a moot point."

I nodded, and helped her into a semi-stand to adjust her hospital gown, "Yeah, I know, but until then, you're gonna have to follow directions for once in your life."

She clicked her tongue and sat down gingerly on the edge of her bed, "Blah, blah, blah," she mocked, moving her head from side to side with a pained expression. "We're losing time. We should be out there, tearing the world apart."

"I know," I soothed, helping her back into one comfortable position. "I know." I sighed and ran my hands through my hair and stared at my wife. The bruising on her face was finally starting to lighten up; yellow tingeing the dark purple and pink around her temple and left eye. Her collarbone was still stained purple where the branch had hit her and tackled her to the ground. "Grace has a list of people she called."

"She told me," Serra answered, her eyes closing as she leaned her head back against the pillows. "They're starting to arrive as soon as Tuesday."

"Loyal friends," I commented, nodding.

"We worked with a lot of hunters back in the day," she sighed. "We helped a lot of other hunters. It's nice to know they remember." Attempting a shrug, Serra replied, "The ones that are still alive, anyway." She left her eyes closed and for a moment, I wondered if she had fallen asleep. "Do you know who she called?" Serra asked suddenly as I was about to turn and sit down on the cot behind me.

I shook my head slowly. "She's been carrying the list around in her pocket, calling whenever she can. I think I remember a couple names on the list: Tulley?" I asked, trying to picture Grace's yellow list in my head. "Seeder?"

"Oh, Tulley," she sighed, a smile finding her lips. "He's so amazing. He specializes as a werewolf hunter up in Alaska. Russian. Huge."

I suppressed a smile. "Huge? How huge?"

"Tulley will make you look tiny, babe."

I chuckled and leaned back against the wall, folding my arms across my chest, enjoying my wife's company. "And who is Seeder?" I asked. "Did I read that right? Seeder is his name?"

Serra opened her eyes enough to squint at me. "We only worked with him a couple of times. Voodoo witch doctor from New Orleans," she explained. "He's real skinny and scary. I never much liked him as a kid, but I think it was because I didn't understand him."

"Why do they call him Seeder?"

Smiling slyly, Serra lifted her eyebrows. "Because," she whispered, "he can plant ideas in your head and make you think they're your own. He seeds, quite successfully, might I add."

"Sounds interesting," I commented. "I saw Santiago on there, along with the cousins, Peter Hillenbrand, Billy Griffin," Serra was nodding slowly as I repeated each name. "And Byron."

Serra's eyes shot open and she made the attempt to sit up. "What?" she practically screamed at me. "She is not calling Byron. Oh my God, no," Serra gave up and lay back into her pillows, wincing in pain. "Oh my God, I'm gonna kill her."

"Sere," I sighed, laughing quietly. "You don't even know if he'll show."

She narrowed her eyes at me; her hazel gaze boring into my face angrily. "Of course he'll show, just to make my life miserable," she whispered. "I swear to God, if he still has that tattoo…"

I laughed and smiled, remembering the story Grace and Serra had told us late one night after the Charlotte and Faith were born. Byron was a hunter from the South who had swept Serra off her feet in a weekend of hunting vampires in El Paso, Texas. They had a whirlwind romance, got married in a tiny chapel, and Grace had to get an attorney to get the thing annulled. My wife had always been a natural disaster.

"I'm still going to have a chat with my sister," Serra reiterated quietly. "Anyone else? Anyone from your end?"

"We don't have many left on our side," I explained sadly. "Dean was going to call Donna Hanscum, a sheriff up in Minnesota, but aside from that, I can't think of anyone. Dean's been on that, though. I've been here with you."

Serra turned slowly, her mood shifting in the blink of an eye. "When's the last time you held Charlie?" she asked, swallowing hard. "When's the last time you were home?"

"It's been a few days," I whispered.

Nodding once, Serra licked her lips. "I want to see her," she answered, staring at the wall opposite of where I sat. "I want to hold her. I miss them both so much."

"I know," I answered, reaching out to hold my wife's hand. "I'll bring Charlotte tomorrow. She misses you too."

Serra took a ragged breath and nodded, still not looking at me. "I'm gonna kill her," she whispered. "I'm going to tear Delilah's face off and then crucify her."

I swallowed, remaining silent as my wife boiled in her rage. Licking my lips, I turned towards the doorway, running a hand through my hair. I had no idea what to say to her and even if I did, there still would be nothing I could think up to comfort her. I could only nod slowly and agree.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Levi

"No," I repeated, staring at the woman called Delilah. "I want to see Everett."

She clicked her tongue, turning away from me, still holding one of Momma's rocks. I had no idea how she got one and I had no idea how many of them there were, but I knew what that Stone could do. Earlier that day, Delilah came into my dark room, holding the Stone out to me, demanding that I try and make it work. So far, so good, because I had Delilah convinced that I didn't know how to do it.

One night a few months ago, long after Momma and Daddy thought we were asleep, Liberty and I snuck down to our basement on a sleepover night and Libby dared me to touch the Weapons Stone that sat in the middle of a big cedar box that was covered in protective sigils and traps. Liberty couldn't even get close to it; the sigils were too strong and she had too much angel blood in her. I remembered smiling shyly at Libby, shaking my head because I knew how much trouble I would get into if Momma and Daddy found out we were down here without them.

My cousin had insisted, though, pushing me towards the cedar chest and nodding encouragingly. "Come on, Lee," she whispered. "Just touch it and see what it'll do."

Finally, she convinced me to reach my hand out to the Stone and slowly, I closed my eyes, picturing the blade I wanted it to create. I had seen Momma do it countless times. I remembered the Stone glowing blue and almost coming alive, with a liquid silver metal pouring out all sides from the bottom of the rock. It almost crawled along the bottom of the cedar chest, gathering itself together like magic, and forming itself into the silver, single piece blade that I pictured in my mind. As I reached for it, I wondered if it would be hot to the touch, but it was cold. Warming to my hand, I picked it up as the glow stopped, and immediately was amazed by the power I held.

I was a Warrior of Heaven.

Now, as I sat in front of Delilah, I shook my head adamantly. "I don't know what to do," I repeated. "I don't know how it works."

"You're lying," Delilah spat, turning around, back towards the door. "You're lying and until you start telling me the truth, you can stay in this dark little hole, away from your cousin."

With that, she slammed the door shut, the ground vibrating under my feet. I took a deep breath, knowing that as long as I held out and stalled as long as I could, Momma and Daddy, Auntie Grace and Uncle Dean would come looking for us. We could make it as long as we kept her needing us.

…

Levi

It had been hours since Delilah closed the door on me and left me in the pitch black room. My eyes adjusted as much as they could, but it was still much darker than I wished it was. I held my hands out, making sure I didn't bump into anything as I turned myself around to go the opposite way again, dragging my feet on the dirt floor as I slowly moved through the cell, looking for the knife I knew I had when Delilah had kidnapped us. The only worry that I had was that the other women had taken it from me when I was asleep, but I had it up my sleeve enough that they might not have known that I had it.

I approached the far wall again and tripped on something, forcing me to look down, even though I couldn't even really see my feet. Bending down and feeling very carefully, I touched the dirt, hoping I wouldn't cut myself on the blade if I found it.

The metal was cold, but it warmed to my hand immediately, like it was happy to see me. I picked up the knife, wiped it on my pants, and took a deep breath, pleased with my progress.

I sat down in the middle of the dirt, closing my eyes as I put the knife back up the sleeve of my shirt. "Libby," I whispered to the air around me. "Lib, we're alive. We're here. Tell Momma and Daddy to come and get us."

I had no idea if she could hear me, but I knew that my cousin was more talented than she let on. She liked to pretend that she didn't have as many powers as Auntie Grace and Faith, but I knew the truth. Liberty had learned to talk to us with her mind and how to convince people that they wanted something even though they really didn't.

Pressing my lips together, I realized that even if Liberty could hear me, I wouldn't be able to tell her much because I had no idea where me and Everett were. I only knew that we were being held by Delilah and her witch friends and I wanted no part in whatever they were planning. I wanted to go home.

…

Grace

I paced around the living room again, watching the angels that stood stoic on the hardwood. I couldn't get them to move and no matter what I tried, they remained motionless and staring. Sabina was unconscious as well, and since going into her subconscious, I was hesitant to even be around her. She was a witch as far as I knew, and whether she remembered or not, the witches we were fighting knew who she was. I no longer trusted her. Serra had been right the whole time and I was so disappointed with myself for not seeing the truth sooner.

"Come on, Cas," I muttered, touching his hand. "Please come back."

The back door slammed and in one long line came Liberty, Glory, Emery holding Faith, and Jody carrying Charlotte. "Grace?" Jody called. "We're back!"

"Hey, there," I answered, squeezing Castiel's hand once more before I dropped it back to his side. "Have fun seeing Auntie Serra?"

I bent to kiss Liberty and Glory while they hugged my legs. "Yes," Glory replied, "but she's still broken. Can't you fix her, Momma?"

I took a deep breath, shaking my head slowly. "I tried, kiddo," I whispered, bending down to my middle daughter's blue eyes. "I tried, but I couldn't. My abilities don't work right now."

Liberty pressed her lips together, trying to figure out how to say whatever it is she wanted to say. That was one of the most wonderful things about my oldest daughter; she didn't say much, but when she did, it mattered.

"We need to bring the angels home," Libby whispered. "Then we can heal Auntie and she can go after Everett and Levi."

Emery and Jody suddenly found interest in the floorboards and the doorknobs, trying to give me and Lib some space. They led Glory away from the back door in the kitchen and I sat on the floor in front of Liberty. "We're working on it, kiddo," I whispered. "Trust me. I made a lot of phone calls and there are a lot of people coming to help us."

"Are they coming now?"

I nodded, smiling as much as I could. "They're on their way. The country is very big," I took a breath, gesturing to the map that was laying on the kitchen table next to us. "It's gonna take a couple of days for everyone to get here."

Liberty nodded, seemingly understanding that I was doing everything in my power to get her brother and cousin back. "I miss them," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

I did what I could to not immediately follow suit, but seeing my daughter in pain was just too much for me. I blinked tears down my face, but didn't bother wiping them away. It was okay to be sad, and I wanted to reiterate that to Lib as much as I could. After all, I had been taught all my life to be tougher; hide my emotions. I refused to do that to my kids.

"I miss them too, Liberty," I answered, sniffing once. "But we'll get them back. We will."

She nodded and hugged me, rubbing her face into my shoulder. Taking a deep shaking breath, I expected her to say something else about the boys, but very calmly, she said, "Uncle Cas' hand moved."

Whipping around and almost knocking Lib over, I turned to stare at the angel in my living room. "His hand moved?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "How?"

"His fingers moved," Libby explained, pointing.

Very slowly, I got up off the floor and walked towards where Castiel was standing. "Cas?" I asked, staring at his open, bright blue eyes. "Cas, can you hear me?"

He remained motionless, but I swore, I could feel his stare from beyond his body.

"We're gonna get you out of there," I whispered. "Because you've got some shit to do."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Dean

"Stu, you got a minute?" I asked, leaning on the doorframe to my office as he sat at the computer at my desk.

"Considering this is your office, boss man," Stuart grinned. "Yeah, I could say I've got some time."

I walked in slowly, closing the door behind me with a gentle click. Folding my arms across my chest, I took a deep breath and sat on the edge of my desk, facing away from Stu, staring blankly out the window. My Impala sat proudly next to the entrance sign in the parking lot, reflecting the illumination that the letters put out this late in the evening; Winchester Family Auto was written backwards in my passenger side windows.

Stu leaned back in the desk chair, the back squeaking slightly as he did, and he leaned his arms behind his head, waiting patiently.

Taking a deep breath, I turned towards my friend and sighed. "We've got some stuff to talk about. Shit's going down, buddy. I know you know something…a little of what our lives are actually like." I chanced a glance at the man sitting in my chair and took another breath, steadying myself. "Back when Grace was pregnant with Faith?" I waited for Stu to nod slowly at me, showing that he understood the timeframe I was talking about. "I wasn't sick. I wasn't at home. We didn't have a fight and we weren't separated, no matter what gossip the guys here were talking."

Stu simply stared at me, waiting for me to continue.

"I was under a spell that forced me to do things that I regret. It turned me evil. It turned me into a fucking demon. Literally."

Blinking slowly, Stuart took a deep breath and took the time to process what I was saying to him. "A demon," he repeated.

"It's not as crazy as it sounds," I said. "We're…me and Grace and Sam and Serra…we're all monster hunters and we have been since we were kids." Staring at the floor, "Grace is…" I rolled my eyes, disbelieving that I was actually saying the words I was about to say. "Grace is half angel."

Very slowly, Stuart leaned forward in the chair and tilted his head. "Half angel," he repeated again.

"She's called a nephilim."

Stu nodded and pressed his lips together, taking a deep breath through his nose. "Angels. Demons," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're starting to sound like a Dan Brown novel, man."

I chuckled, shaking my head and licking my lips. "I know, it all sounds insane, man. But I'm telling the truth, one hundred percent."

"I know you are."

I didn't expect that answer, so immediately, I flicked my gaze up to Stu and narrowed my eyebrows. "What?"

"Look," Stu began, lacing his fingers together as he leaned towards me. "When you were gone, I got to know Grace really well. She was here all the time and the way she moves, the way she holds herself…" he faded away, almost picturing my wife. "She can communicate with the kids in her mind. I've seen it. They have whole conversations silently."

"It's more than telepathic conversations," I sighed. "Normally, she's got all the same mojo as an angel. She's a sight to behold."

"Normally?" Stu asked, tilting his head.

Shaking my head slowly, I raised my eyebrows and sighed again. "There's so much; so much shit has gone down in the last six months or so, it's hard to keep it all straight, let alone retell it."

Stu stood and walked over to the window, staring out at the parking lot. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his mechanics' coveralls and took a deep breath. "Here's what I know," he began, turning to face me. "Your wife is talented; she can hear conversations from home and calls to add her opinion. Your kids are talented too, especially Faith, and I've got my own theory for that."

I lifted my eyebrows, a smile touching the corners of my lips.

"That guy Cas?" Stu asked, making a face, "I expected to see a lot of him when you were gone, but I didn't. He wasn't around at all, but one morning, Grace had it rough." Stu leaned against the wall to gauge my reactions. "She was later than normal and her hair was a mess. Just looked like hell. I walked over to her in the parking lot to see if she needed anything and she was talking to herself, muttering, really. When she looked up at me, her face wasn't hers."

I narrowed my eyes, knowing Grace had it rough the entire time Ouriel had me by the balls, so this particular morning must have sucked. "What do you mean?" I asked, adjusting my position on the desk.

"I mean," Stu continued, "that your Grace wasn't your Grace. She was different, and she reminded me a lot of Cas."

I chuckled to myself, rubbing my face with one of my hands. "Oh, man, Stu," I laughed. "Yeah. That makes sense."

"Of course it does," he answered quietly, shaking his head. "Alright, I'll bite. Why?"

I sighed again, trying to find the words to make it seem a little less far-fetched. "Because Cas took Grace as a vessel to make Faith more angel than human."

"A vessel? What does that even mean?"

I could hear Serra's sexual connotation jokes running through my head as I closed my eyes, "He was…in her. Like, his soul was inside her body." I shrugged. "It was the only way to make sure that Faith would be able to take Everett's rage."

"One thing at a time," Stu held up his hands. "I think Cas using Grace as a vessel may have put me over my information saturation limits."

I stood from the desk and nodded, "Hey, I get it. The point of all this is that we're gonna be kinda busy for the next few weeks…months, whatever it takes to get the boys back and I need you to take over the shop and keep it running while I'm gone."

"Gone? Gone where?" Stuart asked, automatically suspicious. "You ain't leaving again."

"No, it's not like that," I shook my head. "We're going after the bitch that took my kid."

For the first time, Stuart seemed genuinely shocked. "Took your kid? What the hell are you talking about, Dean?"

"Her name is Delilah and we're not sure what she is, but she's behind a lot of shit that's gone down. She tossed a tornado at us, almost killed Serra, took Grace's angel mojo, and now Everett and Levi are missing." I turned towards the window and pointed, "Stu, my kid and nephew are out there and we're going to tear the world apart looking for them."

Stuart turned towards me and shook his head slowly, still in disbelief. "I'll do whatever you need me to do, Deano," he said quietly.

"Thanks, Stu," I whispered. "Doug is coming out of retirement to help with the paperwork. You just keep getting cars up on those lifts and Doug will take care of the rest of it." I walked back to my desk and restacked a perfectly stacked pile of papers, trying to figure out what to do with my hands. "There's a bunch of hunters on their way to the house," I continued quietly. "They'll start getting there on Tuesday and if you're interested in finding out more about us and who we are, come on by Wednesday or Thursday. We'll have a meeting of sorts and get this shit started."

"I'll be there," Stu answered. "You let me know when, and I'll be there."

…

Sam

I had open books laying on every empty surface, in full research mode, looking for a way to bring the angels back out of Sabina's mind. They still seemed to be locked there and we needed them now, more than ever. I wondered momentarily if Cas and Lucia were in some sort of mortal peril, but I had no way to prove it. I just knew that we needed them back.

Serra stirred next to me, moving slightly in the hospital bed with a grimace on her face.

"Sere?" I asked, putting the book down on the cot next to me and standing. "You okay?"

She fully awoke with a gasp, her eyebrows furrowed and tears in her eyes, "Fuck," she hissed. "Oh my God, my back hurts."

My heart jumped into my throat and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. "What? Why?" I glanced at her monitors and saw that her heart rate had elevated quickly. "Serra, stay calm," I turned towards the door and continued. "Hold on, baby, I'll get a doctor."

I ran out into the hall and called towards the nurses' station, "Hey! Julie!" No one answered immediately, so I shouted again, "Julie! Julie, we need you!"

"Sam?" a voice answered. "Hold on, we're coming!"

Immediately, I went back to Serra, touching her shoulder as she rolled towards me, curling into a ball as much as her broken body would allow. "Why all of a sudden?" she grunted. "This is like labor all over again."

"In your back?" I asked, moving her hospital gown to the side so I could see the incision from her surgery. I could feel my eyes go wide as I saw the smoothness of her skin with tiny, black knots tied in a line down her spine, but there were no wounds. Nothing at all. Serra's bruises were gone and her cuts were healed. The only evidence that she had surgery four days ago was the sutures, still tied neatly in the line of her spine.

Slowly, disbelieving, I reached towards Serra's back and touched where the wounds should have been. Her skin was smooth to the touch and I marveled at what I was seeing.

"What, Sam?" she gasped. "Did I blow a suture?"

I was dumbfounded, "No," I whispered. "No, all your stitches are fine."

"Then what is it?" she asked. "God, it hurts so much."

"I don't know, honey," I muttered. "I don't know. You…your wounds are gone."

Serra pulled away from me, her face red with exertion. "Are you high?" she grunted.

"I'm serious, Serra," I argued, touching her back. "There's nothing back here. No cuts, no bruising, no nothing. The only thing that could prove that you were even ever hurt is that your stitches are still there." I glanced at my wife. "Maybe that's what hurts?"

Serra shook her head, pushing me away. "No," she answered, irritation finding her voice. "Grace has stitched me up with no numbing and that was nothing compared to this. Get a fucking doctor or something."

"They're coming," I answered, gesturing to the door as I watched Serra stand from her hospital bed with no hesitation whatsoever. "Serra, what are you doing? You're gonna hurt yourself."

Just then, Julie breezed in, followed by two other nurses from the station down the hallway. "Serra! What are you doing out of bed? Jesus," Julie exclaimed as she approached my wife. "You're going to dislodge your pins."

She forced Serra into a sitting position and moved towards the monitors, all clicking and beeping away as if nothing had changed. The only difference I could see was that Serra's heart rate was still elevated, but I assumed that was because she was in pain and anxious about what was happening to her.

"Where does it hurt?" Julie consoled, reaching for the heart rate monitor and switching off the sound. "Being up out of bed probably didn't help."

"My back," Serra gasped. "There's a cluster in my back that's killing me." Serra reached and pointed to a spot below her shoulder blades, almost dead center in her spine. "Right there. There's something under my skin. It hurts so bad."

"When did the pain start?" Julie asked.

Serra had her eyes squeezed shut, so I turned to Julie and answered, "She was asleep and woke up in pain. She wasn't doing anything."

Julie reached to the back of Serra's hospital gown and gasped loudly, stepping back. "What the hell?" she shrieked, pointing towards Serra's spine. "How are you healed?"

"One thing at a time," Alana spoke for the first time. "Just wait, let's find out why she's in pain." Alana shot a look towards me and raised her eyebrows knowingly. "Let's get her upstairs and get her scanned."

"Her wounds, Alana! What about her wounds? She had broken vertebrae and incisions all up her spine! They're closed! In four days!" Julie was close to hysterical, looking from me to Alana and back to Serendipity.

"Julie!" Alana shouted, clapping in front of her face to get her attention. "We'll deal with that later! Your patient is in pain and you need to find out why."

This seemed to stir something in Julie and immediately, she refocused and got back to business, rolling the gurney towards Serra and demanding that she lay down. Serra finally relented, the pain getting to her enough that she closed her eyes and laid on her side as Julie pushed the gurney through the opening of the door. I went to follow immediately, but Alana tugged on my shirt, holding me back.

"Sam?" she asked, raising her eyebrows into her hairline. "You wanna shed some light?"

I was already shaking my head, "I don't know, Alana," I breathed. "This is all new to us, too. She had wounds when she fell asleep. I cleaned them myself."

"I am not even supposed to be in this ward, Sam," she answered, glancing behind her as Julie and the rest of the nurses pushed my wife through the hall of the hospital, headed towards the elevator. "I am a friggin' gynecologist, but I keep coming back up here, worried that something like this would happen.

"She's not like her sister," I insisted. "I don't know how she's healed. I don't know how to explain what happened earlier with the light and the explosions. All I know is that our entire world was flipped upside down because our son and nephew are missing and she's stuck in this hospital. Grace has no abilities and we are fighting blind." I could feel myself start to lose control, so I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. "My family took a huge hit from an enemy that we can't see and we are trying right now just to stay afloat."

Alana took a deep breath, closing her eyes and holding out her hand, nodding slowly. "Okay, okay," she sighed, "I know. Let's go upstairs and find out what's up with Serra."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Serra

The pain I felt was different than I had ever felt before. There was a searing burn beneath my skin, clustered together and pressing out from the inside. "Can we hurry this up a bit?" I asked from inside the MRI machine. At least I was face-down. "I'd like to make sure I'm not going to explode or something."

"Hold on, Sere," Alana's voice came from the tiny speaker to my left. "Stay really still until the MRI stops moving. I'll tell you when you can move."

Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes as the loud hum and mechanical buzz began to reverberate through my body as the MRI machine began its scan. I swallowed hard, thinking about what Sammy and Julie had said before they brought me up here: my wounds had healed. How the hell had my wounds just healed? How does something like that happen if you don't have angel blood like Grace?

The scan stopped and there was an absence of sound, so I opened my eyes, but stayed still, waiting as patiently as I could.

"One more, Sere," Alana's voice came through the speaker again and I took a deep breath, steadying myself for another go.

As the machine buzzed and did its job, I considered all the possibilities, but it was a short list. Maybe somehow, Mom had angel blood too and we just didn't know? It seemed unlikely, especially considering we had never heard of the possibility until now. The only other thing I could think of was the idea that Grace had somehow transferred her abilities to me, but I couldn't imagine how that had happened either, considering I couldn't hear anyone as she normally could and it didn't seem like I could control the outbursts. The other possibility was Sam, but I didn't see how that was in the running, considering Sam didn't have any special powers of his own.

Except that he was supposed to be a vessel for one of the most powerful beings in history.

And he drank demon blood to get juiced up and had some of the same types of abilities as demons and angels alike.

The buzzing from the MRI machine stopped and my eyes flew open. Sam and Grace had both given me blood during my hospital stay and suddenly, I was having full-blown tantrums where I could burst light bulbs and windows and heal my wounds in an eighth of the time.

I could feel my mouth opening in shock as I worked through the thought process: Grace had given me blood before and nothing special happened, but Sammy had never given me blood before. This was all completely new. Sam's blood coursing through a Warrior of Fucking Heaven was apparently a very powerful combination.

Very slowly, I could feel a smile spread across my face, despite the pain in my back. Dean and Grace happened to be the perfect combination of abilities and cosmic balance, but it seemed that Sammy and I had the same thing going for us. If my theory was right, Sammy could keep giving me blood and I would have powers similar to Grace in her prime. I giggled.

"Okay," Julie sighed as the gurney that supported me came to a stop outside the MRI machine. "It's going to take a minute for the photos to show in the control room, so go ahead and stand carefully." I began to sit up and Julie held out her hand. "Slow down, Sere," she gasped. "You still have a spinal injury."

I didn't bother correcting her. I knew already that I was healed because Sam's blood was coursing through my body. Sam approached from the other side and I threw him a grin, reassuring him. My smile faltered when I realized that Grace was the last one to give me a transfusion, but I shook it off quickly. It had to be Sammy. He was the only variable that was new.

"What is it?" Sammy asked, helping me off the table.

I shook my head, "Later," I whispered.

He seemed to accept my answer and busied himself tightening the knots in the back of my hospital gown, trying to save what was left of my modesty. Slowly, we moved towards the monitors and waited patiently as the screen scanned and rescanned the images of my spine. Slowly, things came into focus and I leaned towards the screen, trying to make out my vertebrae, expecting to still see the pins where they should have been, holding together my L1, L2, and L3, but they weren't there.

The pins were gone.

Alana turned to look at me, her eyebrows in her hair line. I shook my head, trying to think of an explanation, but nothing sounded acceptable enough to say aloud in a crowd of people who didn't know all of our secrets.

"Look, look," Julie was saying as she leaned forward and was pointing to the screen where a cluster of bright white objects were grouped together, near the surface of my skin. "There are the pins. They all came loose. How?"

"How indeed," Alana sighed. "There's your pain," she glanced at me. "We need to get those out of you."

"Yes, please," I grunted, remembering the pain as it came back in full force. I wondered momentarily if my body would end up spitting the pins out in a messy, bloody pile.

"Alright," Julie sighed. "Let's get you scrubbed up and back into OR."

…

Grace

"What do you mean she's healed?" I asked, holding the phone against my ear and my shoulder. "How can that be?"

"I don't know," Sam sighed into the phone. "She says she has a theory, but we've been surrounded by people over the last hour or two and she hasn't had a chance to talk to me yet. Says it has something to do with the blood transfusion."

I shook my head, having no idea what the hell was going on anymore. "What did the doctors say?" I asked.

"That she's fine and she can come home as soon as they finish the surgery to remove the pins." He clicked his tongue and I knew he was running a hand through his hair. "Should be easy, considering they're all in a cluster underneath her skin."

"Her spine pushed out the pins, too?" I asked, doubt surging through my voice. "How can that possibly be?"

"I don't know, Grace," Sammy sighed, wrapping up the phone call. "I don't know."

Closing my eyes, I rolled my head, trying to get my neck to pop. "Okay, well," I replied, "as soon as they let you bring her home, the better. I need all hands on deck so we can get the angels out of Sabina and then try and get a hold of Crowley." I tossed the book I had been reading onto the pile on the kitchen table and watched momentarily as Liberty held a drawing up to me, showing her artwork. I smiled lightly and nodded, showing my approval and she skipped away, unaware of the rest of the conversation. "The hunters are starting to come by tomorrow and we're gonna need some more places for them to sleep. Em and Jody have cleaned up the barn a bit so we can get a bunch of them out there, but your house is shot. The chimney came in through the kitchen."

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. "Shit, I forgot all about the house," he muttered. "Have you called the insurance company yet?"

"Yeah," I answered, "but I can't make the claim because I'm not a resident. You have to call."

"I've been a bit busy," Sammy replied, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

I sighed. "I know, Sam. We all have been. We'll get it taken care of."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Grace

Liberty sat up a little straighter and listened to something I couldn't hear, cocking her head towards the front of the house. I paused, listening too, but I couldn't distinguish anything different. Taking a deep breath and pushing the lump of emotion in my throat away, I continued sweeping the kitchen, trying to get the remainder of the debris out of the house. Faith had brought a long, splintered piece of wood to me the other day while I was on the phone and I realized that we had jumped into action so quickly that I hadn't bothered to clean up the mess caused by the storm.

There were keys in the front door and Sam pushed his way through, followed closely by my sister, walking on her own with no evidence that she had been near death only seventy-two hours ago. I stood up straight and shook my head slowly. I didn't understand how she ended up healed, but at the same time, I wasn't going to question it.

Liberty was on her feet, launching herself towards her aunt and uncle without hesitation. "Auntie Lucky, you're okay!" she yelled, wrapping herself around Serra's legs and squeezing tightly.

"Easy there, Lib," I warned, glancing at the grin on Serra's face. "Don't break her."

Serra flicked her gaze up to me and took a deep breath, "Yeah, I've already been broken once this week."

I approached my sister after leaning the broom up against the counter and wrapped her in a tight hug. "How?" I whispered, her ear at my lips. "I mean, I'm not going to question it, but," we leaned away from each other and both shook our heads at each other. "How?"

She shrugged lightly and smiled, "I have a theory."

I turned to smile at my daughter, who was still clutching Serra's legs tightly. I turned to Sam and hugged him with one arm, kissing him once on the cheek. "We'll talk about it later," I sighed, knowing there was a lot to be discussed in the coming days. "Dean's on his way home from the shop," I continued. "He's bringing home Chinese and we can start to battle plan."

Serra nodded, turning to look around the house. "Not much damage in here," she commented. "Or have you just cleaned it up?"

"I've cleaned a lot of it up already," I answered. "But we didn't get the brunt. Your house is going to need some serious renovations."

Serra clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes. Glory joined Liberty around her legs and she bent to hug them, wincing slightly when she pulled the new stitches in her back. Jody brought Charlotte towards Serra, already leaning towards her mother with her arms stretched wide, pinching at the air with her pudgy fingers as she got closer.

"Hey, kiddo," Serra whispered as she nuzzled her daughter. "I missed you too."

…

Grace

"Okay," I sighed, coming up the basement steps from putting the kids to bed. They currently were sleeping together in the same place; safely behind the locked lead door in the panic room. "So, what's your theory?"

Serra leaned forward, trying to reach her back with her left hand to scratch the stitches in her back. "Sammy," she grinned, raising her eyebrows. "Sammy is my theory."

I glanced at Dean, who looked as confused as I was. "Sammy?" I asked, sitting down next to my husband at our dining room table. "Let's back up a bit. How is Sammy a theory?"

"The blood transfusion," Sam whispered, staring at his wife with wide eyes, obviously putting something together that Dean and I had yet to do. "That's the variable."

Serra was already nodding excitedly. "He's the only difference in this whole experience. He gave me blood and after he did, I started being able to explode light bulbs and make windows break. I started thinking about it in the MRI machine."

"Wait, wait, wait," I was holding up my hands and shaking my head, trying to grasp what my sister was explaining. She had the tendency to jump to conclusions way before we had any sound theories. "How do you think that Sam is the reason that you suddenly have abilities. Sam doesn't have any abilities," I glanced at my brother-in-law. "That we know of anyway?" I finished my sentence with a question in my voice, making sure I wasn't missing anything.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head slowly.

Dean leaned back, bringing his hands behind his head and resting his head in his hands. "He used to," he sighed. "There was that whole demon blood thing."

Sam was already narrowing his eyes and ready to argue with Dean, "That was years ago and I haven't done that since then. There's nothing special about my blood."

"Dude," Dean sighed, "you can't say that with any certainty. I've gotta say, I'm on Serra's side on this one. You could explode demons with your fucking mind there, for a while. You could read thoughts and emotions almost as well as Grace could in the beginning and the visions…"

"That was different because I was hopped up on the demon blood, Dean, and you know it."

I took a slow breath, considering the possibility. Honestly, stranger things had happened and there was no reason this theory Serra had developed couldn't be true. Dean and I were a perfect cosmic pair. Why couldn't Sam and Serra be the same way?

"I don't know, Sammy," I began. "I've given her blood plenty of times and nothing like that has ever happened. My abilities aren't transferrable. Well," I sighed and leaned back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest, "They weren't, back when I had them."

All eyes were suddenly on me and I could feel the pity flowing from everyone at the table.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, holding out one of my hands. "This isn't about me right now. If Serra has these abilities, we need to know more about them before we go into battle with them. Can she control them?" I asked, "Or is it more of an impulse thing? Do they fade? Can she get charged up? How easily can she regain them or lose them?"

"Way to rain on my parade, Grace," Serra muttered, pouting from her place at the table.

"I'm serious, Serra," I reiterated. "We can't be in the midst of battle with someone or something and have you fizzle out when we were depending on you as our secondary infantry."

"Secondary?" Dean asked.

I nodded towards the living room, "I'm still holding out for the angels."

There was an uncomfortable silence as we considered the fact that Castiel and Lucia were still effectively missing; locked in Sabina's subconscious, most likely in imminent danger.

"Either way, I'm apparently out as a force of nature and we need to make sure we can control what we can when we go after the boys." I rolled my head from side to side, begging my body to release the tension that had gathered at the base of my skull.

Dean took a deep breath and seemed to be communicating silently with his brother and my sister. Finally, he pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show and swallowed hard, trying to think of how to continue.

Finally, I raised my eyebrows and said, "Just spit it out, Dean. I can't hear you, remember?"

He licked his lips, and closed his eyes, probably hating himself for what he was about to say. "Are we ever gonna talk about that?" he asked.

"Talk about what?"

"The fact that you lost your abilities almost overnight." He took another deep breath and seemed find the confidence to continue. "The fact that you are half angel but no one would ever know it because suddenly, you're more human than most humans?"

I flicked my gaze towards my sister, who was watching me carefully. "We all know it's Delilah. We know it's a spell." I lowered my gaze, staring at the table, and I used my fingers to trace the grain of the wood. "It has to be, so I can't hear or track the boys."

"Are we going to talk about trying to break that spell?" Dean asked gently. "It would be kinda nice to have both Browning sisters in our available arsenal."

"I don't see how we're gonna do that without killing Delilah or having the angels back." I glanced at my sister. "Hate to admit it," I sighed, "but I think it's Serra's time to shine."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Grace

It was Tuesday morning, before the sun rose over the field between our houses. I stayed in bed, laying on my back, staring at the ceiling, and watched as the darkness slowly faded into light. Dean's breathing had changed about ten minutes ago and I knew he was awake, waiting for me to make the first move.

Without turning to look at him, I took a deep breath and whispered, "I miss him. I can barely breathe, knowing he's out there somewhere without us."

Dean remained silent and completely still.

"I don't know what I would do without him."

This seemed to stir something in Dean and he turned, laying on his side to face me. His hair was pushed up, away from his face in the same adorable way it always was in the morning after sleeping face-down all night.

"We won't have to find out," he answered, reaching out to touch my face with his hand. "We _will_ find him. We'll find Everett and we'll find Levi, and we'll send that bitch back to the hellfire she came from."

"How do you know?"

Brushing my hair from my face, Dean took a ragged breath and struggled to keep the emotion from his voice. "Because we don't know how to fail," he whispered. "It's never been an option."

Finally, I turned to look at him and took a deep breath, trying to wipe the tear from my face before it had a chance to fall to the pillow behind my head. I was too late and I heard it hit the fabric with a dull thud. Breaking the silence of the room, my phone began to vibrate on the nightstand next to me. I sat up with some effort, wiped my face, and turned to pick it up.

"Billy is about twenty minutes away," I sighed, comfort seeping into my chest. Finally, I felt like we were doing something to get our boys back. "Let's get moving."

...

Grace

I got dressed after jumping in the shower to rinse the depression off me, and Dean followed suit, touching my hips as he slid passed me and into the bathroom.

His movements were sharp, though he did a good job at disguising them, and he seemed to avoid making eye contact with me. Taking a deep breath, I made a mental note to pay better attention to my husband's attitude over the next few days. I knew part of it was the constant struggle we had with the Mark of Cain and the fact that I was basically human; I had nothing to give Dean when it came to balancing out the rage the Mark forced him to feel. He was doing his best to keep it to himself, but I knew the farther along we got, the harder it would be for Dean to control his anger.

My phone buzzed again, but this time it was Serra, wondering why no one was up yet. Walking into the living room, I was greeted by my moody little sister, leaning on our kitchen counter, sipping a cup of black coffee.

"The kids aren't even up yet," I commented. "It's early still."

Serra clicked her tongue. "I've been up since three," she replied, tilting her head. "I want my kid back."

"We're not going to turn this into a competition," I answered, pouring a cup of coffee for myself and Dean. "We want both of the boys back, and now that you're home, we can get to it. This is the earliest anyone could get to us."

She seemed to be satisfied with my answer and turned to stare out the window. "Our house is trashed," she commented quietly. "Sam tried to clean up the bricks from the chimney as much as he could, but," she shrugged. "I don't know how well we'll be able to rebuild. We can't afford it."

"Did you call the insurance company?" I asked. "They'll pay for it."

Serra swallowed. "I don't know if they will," answered my sister. "They gave Sam some speech about separate tornado insurance…" she sighed. "Whatever, I'll sleep outside if I have to. I don't care about that right now."

Licking my lips, I nodded. "Billy should be here any minute," I whispered. "He'll know what to do."

"I know what to do too," Serra spat. "Hunt her down and kill her."

I decided my best option was to stay silent, but I didn't have to for long. As soon as Dean came out of our bedroom, there was a knock on the front door, followed by a quiet, "It's Bill. Don't shoot me."

I couldn't help the smile that found my lips as I strode to the front door. Pulling it open wide, I took a deep breath and tears stung my eyes. The salt-and-pepper beard that I was so familiar with was closer to pure white now, but his dark brown eyes were just as familiar. He grinned when he saw me, shaking his head slowly, "Grace Browning, look at you," he greeted. "Angel, you are a sight for sore eyes."

Gasping, I wrapped him in a hug, not hesitating like I used to, back when I was a by-touch psychic. The move caught him off-guard, "Whoa," he chuckled. "Don't have to worry about touching you anymore, huh?"

I laughed, pulling away from him and shaking my head. "Well," I began, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "Considering there's a spell pulling my abilities completely from me," I shrugged. "There's nothing to hear anyway."

Serra was behind me, pushing me aside. "Hey, there, disaster," Billy greeted warmly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as she hugged him casually.

"Long time, no see," Serra answered. She smiled lightly at me when I threw her a questioning look. It didn't seem like a lifetime had passed between their last meeting.

Finally putting it together, I tilted my head. "You've been down to Deerhead without me?" I asked, flabbergasted.

"I can go places without you," my sister answered sarcastically. "We don't have to do _everything_ together."

"When?" I asked, shaking my head slowly in disbelief.

Serra lifted her eyebrows and took a deep breath. "We can talk about that when the boys are back under our roof."

Nodding once, I redirected my focus again. "Right," I commented, grinning with watery eyes at Billy. "I am so happy you're here."

Billy's beard twitched with a warm, familiar smile. "Me too, angel. Let's get to work."

…

Grace

After everyone had been officially introduced to each other, it felt as if we hadn't been separated from Billy for the last decade or so. He melded with the family so completely that I wondered why I hadn't forced him to the house before. The girls adored him; Glory sat in his lap as Sam and Dean took turns catching Billy up as much as they could on everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks. Liberty sat next to Dean, sharing a bowl of Cheetos with him as he meandered through the kitchen, pacing slightly as he told Billy about our hunt in Holden.

"Looking back, we know it was all a trap," Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't styled it for the day, so it was fluffier than normal. "We know it was just to get us out of the house and away from the kids."

"Getting you away from the kids is one thing," Billy countered, leaning forward towards the table. "But she had to have known that Serra and Sam were here."

Sam gestured to me, "She knows Grace is Nephilim. She figured that she'd get Grace and Dean away, she would have an easier time pushing us around."

"Yeah," Serra added, gesturing to Faith who sat happily in her highchair at the end of the table, "and she didn't account for Mushroom Cloud over there, either."

Billy chuckled, "Okay," he began. "So we've got this woman, Delilah. She's a witch,"

"Maybe," Dean interrupted.

"Maybe?" Billy asked, flicking his dark eyes towards my husband.

I took a deep breath and shrugged. "I don't know," I sighed. "She seems awful powerful for a witch."

"What else could she be?"

I exchanged glances with Dean and he nodded, forcing me on, "We've talked about the possibility of her being angelic, but we can't prove it, especially with the angels out of commission."

"And the fact that you're firing blanks," Serra finished. "We have no connection to angel radio at all right now."

"Let's go back to that," Billy took a swig of his beer as Glory got down off his lap, running to greet Emery and Jody as they came walking in the front door. "You have lost all of your abilities?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "I think they've been fading for a while now, but since the angels have been locked in Sabina's subconscious, I get the feeling that they're completely dormant for now." I turned to the women walking through my living room and threw them a weak smile. "Hey, guys," I gestured to Billy. "This is Bill Griffin, an old friend of the family. He's the first that came to help." I turned back to Billy, "This is Jody Mills and you remember Emery, right? They're both a godsend and I don't know how we would have made it through the last few years without them."

"Em, you're looking pretty good for a dead woman," Bill commented, lifting his eyebrow critically. "We'll get back to that later, methinks."

Blushing slightly, Emery took a deep breath through her nose and shrugged. "Another time," she agreed.

Bill turned to Jody, smiling broadly. "It's wonderful to finally put a face with a name that I have been hearing about for so long," Billy began, shaking her hand. "Serra's told me so much about you." Bill seemed to smile even more broadly, if that was possible. The handshake slowed, and finally, he stood there, holding Jody's hand with both of his. "Jody Mills," he repeated. "Aren't you a sight?"

"Why, thank you, Billy," she commented, flushing slightly. She glanced at her feet in an embarrassed sort of way. "It's wonderful to put such a handsome face with your name as well."

I glanced at Serra and raised my eyebrows, surprised at the sudden connection that Bill and Jody seemed to have. She returned the look, shaking her head slowly. "You can continue the flirt fest when my kids are home, safe and sound," Serra commented to the room, louder than she needed to. "Let's keep the focus where it needs to be, huh?"

Immediately, Jody broke away and stepped towards Liberty, hugging her from behind and taking a Cheeto from the bowl on the table. Emery chuckled quietly, shaking her head, as she unloaded groceries from the bag she carried.

"Who's hungry for some brunch?" she called, turning to the kids clustered in the dining room. Liberty and Glory immediately raised their hands, smiling happily. Faith and Charlie didn't show much interest, but I knew from experience that they would never turn down a meal.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Grace

"Their vessels haven't rotted," Bill commented as he walked around Castiel's statuesque form in the living room. "Why do you think that is?"

I shook my head, shrugging. "I don't know," I answered. "This whole thing is weird. Like, why can't Sabina expel them? Why can't she regain control of her body and just toss them out?"

"What have you tried to call them back?" Billy asked, shoving his hands in his pocket. "The angels; can't they still hear you?"

I shook my head, "Honestly, I haven't tried much because I've been so focused on Serra and her injuries and now her new abilities. I can't hear them on angel radio, and I spent four days on the phone, calling everyone I knew, everyone that Dad knew…now you're here and I feel like I can finally make some progress. Tell me to do something." I swallowed. "I literally can come up with _nothing_ on my own."

Billy pressed his lips together, looking at me with pity. "Honey," he breathed. "This could be as simple as calling them back. If they're doing anything like dream walking, maybe they're just stuck because they can't find their way back. It's happened before."

Dean crossed his arms and shrugged at me. "It's worth a shot," he commented. Taking a step closer to Castiel's vessel, he lifted his eyebrows. "Hey, Cas," he began. "We're here. Come home."

I felt like an idiot, standing there and staring at Cas' face, waiting, but after about thirty seconds, I resigned to the fact that he couldn't hear Dean. Nothing happened. "Cas?" I added. "Can you hear us?"

We waited another thirty seconds or so. Still nothing.

Our concentration was broken shortly thereafter by a pounding on the front door. I stepped backwards to get a clear view to the door as Serra approached with one of her guns drawn. As she crept towards the door, Sam and Emery blocked the kids with their bodies, each fingering the gun they held as well.

From the porch, we heard his deep voice and heavy Russian accent, "Browning sisters, if you are shooting me, I am unable to help you."

Serra whipped around to grin at me, holstering her gun and moving to unlock the door. "Holy shit," she gasped as the door opened and a mountain of a man stood on our porch. "Tulley," she grinned, leaping towards him for a hug. "I can't believe you're here."

"I am here for the hunting," he replied, his beard bristling as Serra released him. He did his best to hide the grin trying to show, but he failed miserably as Grace approached. "Grace Browning," he greeted, smiling broadly. "You are adult now. You have many kills?"

I was shaking my head as I smiled meekly. "I've tried to get out of the game, Tulley, so not as many as you'd like."

Tulley turned slightly, barely making it through the doorway to our home. He ducked his head as he walked into the living room and nodded slowly, taking in the surroundings. "You are now soft, Grace Browning," he muttered, shaking his head disapprovingly. "You are no longer mighty hunter."

"She is too, Tull," Serra argued. "Trust me. If you knew half of what we've gone through—"

I held up my hand, silencing my sister. "Don't, Serra. It's okay," I stepped forward towards Tulley and held out my hand, ready to shake his monstrous hand. "You made the trip for us. For that I'm grateful."

Grinning, Tulley bent down and scooped me into a rough hug, Dean stepping forward protectively. Tulley laughed heartily, setting me down and bringing his duffel bag off his shoulder. "Point me to monster. I will kill, we will feast, then I will be back to my wolves by Wednesday."

I lifted my eyebrows and shook my head slowly. "I don't think it's gonna be that quick, there, buddy," I sighed. "There are about fifteen hunters coming. We're in this for the long haul, if you're up for it."

"Tell me," Tulley demanded, setting me down.

Dean took a deep breath behind me, reminding me that he was there. "Hold on, Tull. Just hold on. Let's get you situated in the barn and the rest of the hunters should be arriving later today. I'd like to only tell this story one more time," I explained. "We haven't even made proper introductions." I turned towards my husband and held out my hand, "This is Dean Winchester, my husband."

Tulley paused, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Dean Winchester," he repeated quietly. "You are mighty hunter. Where is brother?"

"I'm right here," Sam answered quietly.

Lumbering into a turn, Tulley faced Sam quietly. "Mighty hunters," he repeated. For the first time, Tulley seemed to take in the rest of the house. He finally noticed Jody and Emery sitting at the table with the kids, Bill among them, and the family photos that littered the walls. Silently, Tulley furrowed his eyebrows and his giant mustache bristled. "You have children," he muttered, turning towards me.

I nodded. "You see why I wanted out. Why we all wanted out."

Slowly, Tulley agreed, taking a breath. "Yes," he answered. "Fred will understand as well. She is waiting."

"Wait, Fred is here, too?" I asked, turning back towards the door. "Why didn't she come in?"

"I said," Tulley furrowed his eyebrows. "She is waiting."

Serra cocked her head, "I don't know Fred."

"Waiting for what?" I asked, ignoring my sister. "She can come in."

Lumbering to the door, Tulley took a deep breath and bellowed, "Winnifred! You come in now."

Serra shot me a look and raised her eyebrows, "Who the hell is Winnifred?" she whispered. "Why don't I know Winnifred?"

"You were too young," I answered. "Fred and Tulley were a thing back then. I had no idea they were still together."

"A thing?" Serra answered, a strange look crossing her face.

I furrowed my eyebrows, staring at my sister, trying to grasp the look on her face. "What? Are you jealous?"

"What? Ew," she answered too quickly. "No. Tulley is like, sixty. Gross."

"You like big men," I answered, eyeing Sammy.

Serra ignored me as we watched an equally large woman barge her way into my house. She was just as I remembered; wild, curly jet-black hair and oddly delicate features, especially considering her size. She had to be over six feet tall, and now that I saw Fred and Sam stand near each other, I knew her to be at least six feet, three inches tall. She and Sammy stood at eye level. I laughed.

"Winnifred," I greeted, smiling as she set down her duffle bag next to Tulley's. "Thank you for coming."

She nodded, eyeing Dean and Sam as they stood silently behind us. "Tulley told me that your boys are missing," she answered, her dark eyes darting between my sister and I. "We'll find them and we'll bring them home."

I licked my lips, knowing that Fred would do anything in her power to save a child. Once upon a time, she had been a mother too. "Thank you, Winnifred," I whispered. "Thank you so much."

We made the rest of the introductions around the room and immediately, our children took to Fred and Tulley, knowing somewhere deep in their souls that these people were here to help. As the afternoon progressed, more hunters arrived at Winchester Ranch, and slowly, for the first time in weeks, I felt like we had some hope.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Grace

"I think everyone is almost here," I whispered to Dean as he circled around me, watching the crowd of people spilling from our front porch and onto the gravel drive way. From my count, there were twelve so far; Bill, Tulley, Fred, and Santiago included.

When Santi arrived earlier that afternoon, there was a gloom of sadness that dampened Serra's spirit as we all embraced. The gaping hole that Miguel left behind was heavy and it took her breath away, seeing Santiago and his cousins approach the house without him. Sam and Dean stayed at our peripheral, waiting patiently to be introduced to the newcomers.

"We were close," Serra had whispered to Sam after the commotion died down. "Miguel was killed on a hunt about a decade ago. It's still hard to wrap my head around. I forget how mortal we are."

Sammy nodded slowly and wrapped his arm around his wife. "Don't I know it," he answered. After a brief pause, he nodded towards the group of people socializing around the front porch. "You guys know a lot of hunters," he commented.

"I'm surprised so many are still alive," Serra replied. "I had no idea that Grace was still in contact with so many of them."

I shrugged as I approached, hand in hand with Dean. "They've all asked us for help at one time or another. It's not like I was keeping track, but," I faded off, not really knowing how to continue.

"I'm glad you did," Dean answered. "We're gonna need all the help we can get." He threw a look to Sam and sighed. "Everyone we know is dead."

"Not everyone," I answered.

Sam and Dean both whipped their heads around to stare at me in wonder. "Who?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam questioningly.

Sammy shrugged in response, having no idea who I might have called. They both turned and continued to stare at me, waiting.

"Her name is Krissy," I began. "You mentioned her in your hunt journal from forever ago and before I lost my abilities, I found her in your memories." Dean and Sam exchanged a glance once again, shaking their heads slowly, trying to place the name in their memories. "You saved her father from a vetala…long time ago. She was just a kid." I turned to stare at Dean and took a deep breath. "She's in Search and Rescue in Colorado now. I figured it would be nice to have someone with a background in finding people on the team. It'll be nice to have someone else besides Jody that's legit, too. She said she probably wouldn't be able to make it, but I hope she shows up."

"Krissy?" Dean repeated, searching his memory. "A vetala?"

I nodded without looking up at my husband. "Yeah, her father was a hunter," I replied quietly. "He was killed, not long after you saved him."

The pieces seemed to fly into place for both Sam and Dean, both closing their eyes in recognition. "I remember her," Dean whispered, shaking his head. "She was bent on being a hunter too. Kept breaking all my rules."

"Yeah," I nodded, agreeing. "I read that. I tracked her down, after a few too many phone calls." I turned towards both of the boys and took a deep breath, wondering how they would handle the next name I dropped. "I also called Missouri."

"Missouri Moseley?" Sam's mouth dropped open. "You called her? How did you even—"

I licked my lips and shrugged. "You said it yourself, Sammy," I sighed. "I know a lot of hunters. I keep an extravagant hunter's journal and I have lists of phone numbers and email addresses."

"And a helluva memory," Serra added. "She never forgets a name or a face."

Licking my lips, I shrugged again. "Missouri never called me back, so," I sighed sadly. "I don't know if we'll see her."

Dean squeezed my hand, nodding out at the crowd. "Either way, Gracie," he whispered. "I'm impressed."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah," I answered. "I just hope it all pans out the way I think it will."

"It'll be okay," came Dean's ever-present mantra. "It'll be alright."

…

Grace

"Okay," I lifted my voice to the surrounding hunters in a very familiar way; suddenly, I was back in my old classroom, using my teacher voice to greet the dozen or so hunters that were scattered across our property. There were cars surrounding the area as well; mostly classic Chevy and Ford models that were easy to work on and easy to disappear.

"Hey, everyone," I continued, struggling to figure out how to continue. "I just wanted to start out with how grateful we are that you all are here."

There was a murmur in the crowd as they gathered closer to listen. Most of the faces that stared up at me were friendly, though hardened from decades of chasing monsters. They were scarred and greyed, looking a bit more worn than I had anticipated. Among them, though, were the friendly faces I remembered so well from my adolescence.

"For those of you who don't know, this is my husband, Dean Winchester and his brother, my brother-in-law, Sam."

"The Brownings married the Winchesters?" a voice shouted from the crowd. "That's a helluva pairing."

I chuckled ironically, "Yeah," I agreed. "Ironically, that's one of the reasons we're here. The pairing was cosmic, in a sense. It's one of the main reasons why our sons Everett and Levi are missing."

There was another murmur in the crowd that was a little darker; a little wary. Suddenly, my hunters were on the defensive.

Finding my voice again, I put strength back into my words, no matter the weakness I felt as I addressed the group of men and women. "Look," I began, "it's only fair that you all know what you're heading into before we start this, so I'm gonna lay it all out and do what you want after you hear the whole story, but just know that the lives of my kid and nephew are at stake."

That seemed to quiet the crowd a bit, calming Dean slightly. He leaned against the porch's railing at crossed his arms over his chest, waiting quietly, watching. I decided to plow ahead, avoiding my sister's hard gaze, wondering what they hell I was about to say.

"Some of you know that I had abilities as a kid; that I was psychic by touch," there was an acknowledgement through the crowd, so I continued. "Those abilities matured when I met Dean. He carries the Mark of Cain, which in it of itself, is a curse, but we figured out pretty quickly that I was able to take the curse and absorb it, turning my own abilities into full-fledged powers."

One of Santiago's cousins spoke up, "How?" Alejandro asked.

This is the moment I had been dreading since I began calling hunters to come and help. Saying my descriptor out loud made it a label that many wouldn't understand. Automatically, many hunters would categorize me into something they would have hunted, not so long ago. It's not that I was evil or that I needed human kills to survive, but because I was a half-breed, I was automatically filed into a gray area.

I searched the faces in the crowd, wondering how they would take the news. Licking my lips, I made eye contact with Billy and took a deep breath as I saw him smile and nod encouragingly. "I'm…" I breathed and shut my eyes, shaking the last of my fear off. "I'm Nephilim, which means I am half-human and half—"

"Angel," Alejandro supplied, his mouth falling open. Leave it to Santiago's cousin to know what a Nephilim was. The entire Adaka'i family was fiercely religious, having their roots in Old World Catholicism.

I closed my eyes as the murmur of the crowd escalated; voices carrying to me in a worried sort of hushed panic. I did my best to stay calm, but I knew, somewhere in my gut, that this is where we would start to lose the hunters.

"Hey!" Serra suddenly shouted from her place on the steps. "Shut up and listen to me for a second," her voice was angry; trembling with barely controlled rage. "The only reason Grace is even telling any of you this shit is because she wants to make sure all the cards are out on the table and you know what the hell you're getting into. This part," she gestured to me as she continued, "is kinda important, especially if you want to understand why this bitch took our kids."

The mumble through the crowd quieted momentarily as she continued.

"Yeah, Grace is half and half. Dean has the Mark and he was supposed to be the vessel for Michael in the final battle. I'm a Warrior of Fucking Heaven and Sam was supposed to be the vessel for Lucifer in the same battle as Michael."

My jaw dropped open and my eyes went wide as my sister revealed some of our deepest and darkest secrets to the crowd of hunters standing on our front yard. This was information that Serra didn't even like saying out loud to us, in the safety of our own home, but here she was, telling the world of hunting like she was describing the weather.

"Our kids," she continued without hesitation, "are all special too. This shit is genetic, and we had no idea when we all got together. Grace's kids have abilities similar to hers and we just found out recently that they are supposed to be the Gatekeepers."

Alejandro turned towards Santiago and tilted his head. I could tell instantly that he didn't believe the connection. "Gatekeepers?" he asked, getting nods of agreement of confusion from the crowd. "With a capital G?"

I took a deep breath and nodded, "Gatekeepers with a capital G," I agreed, staring at him. "Dean and I have four kids and there are four Gates: Earth, Heaven, Purgatory, and Hell. The lore says that the Gatekeepers have to be blood relatives and our kids fit the job description. We're assuming, since he also has a Mark of his own, that Everett is destined to be Hell's Gatekeeper."

The crowd of hunters erupted into a discussion once more, each dissolving into their own groups, talking animatedly and angrily amongst themselves.

Above the crowd, Santiago's cousins Alejandro and Carlo spoke the loudest. "We didn't sign up for this," Carlo shouted. "This isn't some kidnapping. This is dealing with Heaven and Hell. We're not equipped—"

"You giant, unforgivable pussy," Serra shouted back.

I reached towards Serra, trying to quiet her. She ducked out of my reach, shaking her head violently.

"No, Grace!" She argued, turning back to Carlo and Alejandro. "What would Miguel think of you? He would be ashamed that he was related to such assholes."

I could have predicted the response to Serra's accusations with or without my abilities. The crowd around my house exploded into arguments, shouting towards Serra with no real true speaker among them. I couldn't distinguish any one voice and I sighed heavily at my sister's way with words.

"Shut up!" Serra shouted, climbing up onto the chair that leaned against the rail of the porch. "Shut up, you morons. None of you, not one of you, would be alive if it wasn't for me, our dad, or my sister and you fucking know it. You're all still sucking air because every single one of you used us to keep you alive. Alejandro, you remember that wendigo? That wendigo that almost killed you because it was hiding in the trees and you convinced everyone that you and the guys trapped it in the house? Yeah," she was nodding and lifting her eyebrows triumphantly. "Yeah, that asshole would have dropped right from the heavens to take you out. Who took care of that bastard?"

Alejandro pursed his lips slowly. "You," he whispered.

"And Carlo, how about that banshee in Santa Fe? Almost flattened you with a hot iron skillet, if I remember correctly. Or course, I was about ten, so remind me."

Carlo stared at me, his dark eyes furious.

Serra turned to me dramatically, "You were there, Grace," she continued sarcastically. "Hot iron skillet?"

I nodded slowly.

"Uh-huh," I replied, nodding. "A banshee, but not anymore because of my sister and my father. You're welcome."

Serendipity was on a roll, moving through the crowd with a vengeance. "Tulley? How about you?" she waited as the crimson flush of embarrassment hid behind his beard, "A coven of vamps, if my memory serves me. They move a bit faster than you."

Tulley stared, still silent, but nodded once.

"And Seeder?" Serra turned towards the tall, thin, dark complexion hiding under a large top hat. "How about you? Bad mouthing my sister and her kids because she's a half-breed, but from what I remember, you made some deals with some witches that you just couldn't charm your way out of."

"Your point bein'?" Seeders deep Southern accent dripped with doubt.

Serra jumped down from the chair, landing lightly on the dirt in front of Seeder, almost six feet down. Her injuries were obviously still healed.

"My point," she said, her voice finding a dangerously quiet volume, "is that you would have been dancing for the demons if it weren't for the Brownings. We came through, for every single one of you, every. Single. Time." She turned away from Seeder, now hanging his head, trying to get as far away from Serra as he could. "The point, ladies and gentlemen," she took a deep breath to continue, her voice finding a solid volume once again, "is that none of you would be breathing if it weren't for us, not to mention the Winchesters saving the entire world from the Apocalypse once or twice, so you're welcome for that too. Grace is a lot more eloquent than I am, but I'll tell you straight, right now. We have saved all of your lives, now you need to save ours."

A heavy silence fell among the hunters surrounding our house. Bill glanced my way and I took a deep breath as the corners of his lips tugged into a wry, proud grin. This was the fuel I needed in order to find my voice once again. "Yeah, we're different and yeah, this is some big shit that we're dealing with," I continued, 'but bottom line, if you don't help us, I have no idea what she'll end up doing with the power that our son has. We need to find her, bring Everett and Levi home, and kill her."

My head was buzzing with anticipation and I held my breath, wondering what the verdict would be.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Serra

I was shaking from adrenaline as I turned back to the front porch and climbed the steps. Grace watched me with careful eyes and I wished I could hear what she was thinking. For the most part, I knew that I had said what I needed to say, but the back of my mind wondered if I had just blown the only chance we had at getting and keeping the help we needed from the other hunters.

"You about done?" Grace whispered as I approached, taking Charlotte from Sam's arms. I used the baby to hide as I turned slightly to face the crowd, still murmuring quietly among themselves.

I shrugged, "I guess."

Glancing over Charlie's head, I gestured with my eyebrows to the crowd and back to Grace. She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. Taking very deliberate steps towards the front of the porch once more, Grace turned and faced the crowd again.

In a very quiet voice, she began, "You have every right to pull up stakes and leave, but just know that if the situation were reversed, you know that we would do everything we needed to do to help any one of you."

Tulley took a heavy step towards the porch and spoke for the first time since my speech, "I am not leaving until I am allowed to hunt. It is what I am coming to do. It is what I am driving for three days to do. I am helping the Brownings because it is what is right."

"He's my ride, so," Fred added quietly. "I guess I'm hanging out, too."

Grace smiled lightly, nodding her approval. "Thank you both," she answered.

Santiago Adaka'i stepped forward next, speaking in the comfortingly gentle voice that he had used since before I could remember. "Grace, you know we are loyal to you, no matter the attitude you may get from my cousins." He smiled weakly and shrugged, "We're here until the end."

Nodding, Grace took a shaky breath.

There were other mutters in the crowd as more and more hunters seemed to pledge their loyalty to the Winchester family. My chest swelled with pride as I watched the ragtag team that my sister had assembled come together with one thought in mind: rescue our kids and kill the bitch that took them. I knew I would never be able to repay them, but in a hunter's mind, the balance would finally even out.

Seeder was last to acknowledge Grace as she stood at the edge of the steps. A hush fell over the crowd as he moved closer to my sister, a sinister look crossing his face. Dean and I both took steps towards Grace, our protective natures taking over the movements in our bodies.

The tall, lanky man stared at her for longer than I was comfortable with, his tongue playing over his full lips as he lifted the large top hat from his head and toyed with the purple and blue peacock feather that swayed lazily in the breeze. His maroon suit jacket, once bold velveteen, was worn and threadbare. He took a deep breath, playing carefully over his choice in words.

"I have heard about your battles with the angels," he began, his Southern drawl hard to ignore. Seeder glanced at Dean and held up one of his thin hands, palm up, submissively. "Bein' Nephilim, I'll admit, changed my idea of you…changed how I thought about the Browning family. You put us all in danger, little girl, bringin' your kind of nuclear weaponry to a knife fight."

"This is long past a knife fight," Dean answered, his voice a growl. "We're at war."

"Because of who she is," Seeder replied. "She burned me for makin' a deal with the witches. Seems like she needs to turn that blame around to her family, hookin' up with those winged turncoats."

I was turning towards Sam, handing Charlie over to him and lunging at Seeder in a matter of seconds. "You skinny, Southern asshole—" I began, but Grace stopped me with her hand, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"I get it, Seeder. You don't like the idea of being at war with cosmic forces. Trust me," Grace continued, "if I had the choice, I probably wouldn't want to either. But I didn't choose this. I tried getting out. We all did." She spread her arms out and gestured to the ranch around her. "We tried being on our own, to stop hunting completely, but little by little, the angels and demons and witches dragged us back in by threatening us and my family. My kids. This woman took my abilities and took my kids…she tried to kill my sister and brother-in-law. She separated us from the only angels that are on our side. We don't have anyone left. We need you and the rest of the hunters more than I ever care to admit."

Seeder took a breath and tried to argue, but Grace held up her hand. "No, just listen," she interrupted. "I asked you here because I want my kids back. If you don't want to stay, that's on you, but just know, loyalties are being established and if you leave, you lose your rights to call in a favor ever again. It's only fair."

Taking a deep breath, Seeder glanced around and shook his head. "This is against my better judgement," he sighed, twirling his top hat in his hands. "But unfortunately, I seem to value my allies higher than my own personal safety."

I spoke up again, quietly, just to make sure Seeder really understood where he stood with me. "Let me lay this out for you one time, though," I grunted. "If you decide to be on our team, if you stay; you're here for us. There's no finding a better deal and switching sides halfway through. If I get the feeling, even once, that you're no longer here for us and our cause, you can bet you will never be safe again. Your funeral would be next on my checklist. This is your chance, Seeder. You stay, you're on our team, and mean it."

Seeder's dark eyes flicked up to Dean and Grace, examining their faces carefully as he took another breath, considering his options. Finally, he nodded once. "I'm in," he muttered.

…

Serra

"I'm gonna have to kill Seeder," I muttered to Dean as we gathered around the makeshift war room in their dining room.

Dean took a slow breath and nodded carefully, staring at Seeder from across the room. He had removed his top hat once more and taken off his velveteen suit jacket, draping it carefully across the back of the couch. "Well, you're gonna have to get in line," he sighed, pursing his lips. "Why do they call him 'Seeder'? That's a nickname, right? Not his last name or something?"

I caught the apple Grace tossed me and took a bite, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "He's a voodoo witch doctor from New Orleans," I explained, still eyeing him from behind the dining room table. "Dude's got more shadow people in his pockets than anyone should." I lowered my voice and tilted my head, considering Seeder's history. "From what I know, they call him Seeder because he has the ability to plant ideas in people's heads. Some kind of voodoo mind meld. Apparently," I grinned, looking up at my brother-in-law, "he can be very convincing."

Dean chuckled under his breath. "Good luck," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Not in this house."

"How's everyone else?" Dean asked, taking in the occupants that filled the living room. "Should I add anyone else to my watch list?"

I shook my head slowly, leaning on the table next to Dean, shoulder to shoulder. "No," I answered quietly. "Santi has his crew in line. He'd rather kill them himself than let them step a toe out of line again. Billy and Tulley would die for us and Fred will do anything Tulley tells her to. Grace says she likes the domination."

"Ew," Dean muttered, shaking his head as a rare grin found his lips. "Alright," he continued, "but there's only nine here, and Grace mentioned that there were about fifteen on her list. Where's everyone else?"

"Did she mean including us?"

Before Dean had a chance to answer, the deep, throaty sound of a diesel engine echoed against the house as the truck turned off the highway and into our long, gravel driveway. Another one joined the first as I stood to my full height, attempting to see out the front windows. I glanced at Grace and she made a face at me, almost begging forgiveness.

"Who is that, Grace?" I asked, tilting my head. I couldn't for the life of me think of anyone else that Grace would have called.

Grace took a deep breath and held out her hands, "Just keep it down, alright?" she said, heading to the front door.

"Keep it down?" I asked, reaching for one of the twins, tucked into the waistband of my jeans. "Who is it, Grace?"

Two large, lifted, diesel trucks parked next to Tulley and Fred's Winnebago and their engines silenced, their drivers putting the trucks in park and pulling the keys from the ignition. In tandem, truck doors opened and six more men filed out onto the gravel driveway. I stood, staring as I struggled to place the men that poured out of the trucks.

"Grace, who are they?" I repeated.

The tallest of the men turned and a wide grin spread across his handsome face. His beard was correctly groomed and his broad shoulders straightened as he approached the house. "Serendipity, my love," he greeted as recognition trickled through my spine, "you look just as good as the day you left me."

"Grace, I'm gonna kill you," I muttered to my sister, glancing at her with my jaw locked together. "What is he _doing_ here?"

She sighed heavily as the men approached. "We needed more people. I called everyone." She glanced sidelong at me and made a face, "I told you I did."

"That doesn't mean you call _him_! We could have dealt just _fine_ without _him!"_

Stepping forward to greet him, Grace sighed, "Grow up, Serra. That was decades ago." Smiling and holding out her arms to greet them, Grace hugged the tallest man as he lifted her from the porch. "I'm so glad you made it, Byron. Thank you so much for coming."

Setting my sister down, Byron turned towards me, still grinning unabashedly at me. "Anything for the sister of my long-lost love Serendipity. I'm just glad we get to be reunited!"

"We are _not_ reunited," I spat. "The only reason you're here is to follow orders and to find the kids." I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, "And stop _calling_ me that!"

Byron Hastings stood back and grinned stupidly at me, taking it all in. In his wake, there were the rest of the Southern hunters that we had been friendly with all those years ago in El Paso. I immediately recognized Anthony Dyer, one of Byron's hunting buddies from that weekend. There were two from the truck I didn't recognize and I stared angrily at them.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked the taller and broader of the two.

Byron stepped forward and held out his hands, gesturing to the two large, dark complexioned men. "This is Washington and Clay Reynolds. They're brothers from Atlanta and were interested in helping out when they heard what we were dealing with." Byron smiled proudly. "They've never gotten a chance to work with cosmic beings."

Smiling gently, Grace nodded at each of the men, "Thank you for coming, but I need to know that you'll stay loyal. We're not just fighting a battle here, this is all out war."

Washington nodded slowly, glancing up at Dean as he approached from behind Grace. "We ain't got nothin' left. My boys and my wife was killed two months ago in a hunt gone wrong. I'd like to get a happy ending for someone, even if it ain't me."

I took a deep breath and shook Washington's hand. "Then you're in," I sighed. "Thank you for helping us."

A second group of men from the second diesel truck waited behind Byron and Anthony. I waited for them to turn and introduce the other new comers, but then I realized that they hadn't been travelling together. They just happened to arrive at the same time.

"Holy shit, it's Grace fucking Browning," a voice began as he climbed the porch. "God, you look good. How the hell are you?"

"Married," Dean replied, watching the man approach his wife and scoop her into a bear hug. "To me."

I couldn't help the smile that crept across my face as I watched Dean eye Paul holding tightly to Grace, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"Alright, alright, Paul, back off," Grace sighed, embarrassed as she pushed him away. "Thanks for coming." Dean still stood behind both of them; staring coldly at the new comer. "Dean," Grace continued, "this is Paul Caruso. We've helped him out over and over again." She smiled tightly. "I think it's time he returned the favor."

"Glad to be here," he grinned, holding out his hand to Dean. I chuckled as I watched Dean stare at Paul's hand and narrow his eyes. "Anyway," Paul took a breath and lowered his hand. "You remember Peter, right, Grace?"

"Yeah, I remember him. Asshole never called me back."

"I didn't know if I'd be able to come," Peter muttered quietly. "Paul called pretty soon after you did and convinced me."

"If you're not here to help, I don't want you here," Grace answered. "We're dealing with the lives of my kid and nephew and I am not fucking around."

Peter Hillenbrand nodded slowly. "I know," he breathed. "I just can't shake the feeling that not all of us are gonna make it out of this."

Flicking his eyes again to Paul, Dean lifted a cynical eyebrow. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "We're probably not."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Grace

I stood in the dining room and stared at the assemblage of hunters that spread over most of the downstairs floor of my house. They were talking animatedly to each other and drinking our beer, waiting on orders from me. I had no idea what to do with this many people. I had no idea how to organize them into hunting parties. Suddenly, I regretted ever picking up the phone to ask any of these people here. Turning to stare at Dean, he smiled tightly at me and nodded once. I knew he believed in me and my ability to lead and that was enough for me. I took a deep breath and flexed my fingers. Somehow, I had to figure out what to do next.

"Alright," I sighed, leaning on the dining room table to get everyone's attention. "Mostly everyone is here and I want to get to work."

…

Levi

I rolled from my back to my side, trying to find a comfy spot in the rock-hard dirt, but really, there was no point. I was uncomfortable, hungry, tired, and dirty, but there was nothing I could do about it. We had been here for weeks and we were no closer to coming home.

I hadn't seen Everett since we were brought here. The witches were very careful to keep us separated, probably already knowing that we could do so much more together than apart. I was having bad dreams when I slept now; seeing Everett angry and scared, being tied to a chair in the middle of a sigil, far away from me. I had been sleeping next to my buried Weapons Stone blade, in case I needed it, but for the most part, Delilah seemed to be too frustrated with me to interact with me. I had been alone for three days.

I missed Momma and Daddy. I missed Auntie Grace and Uncle Dean. I missed Liberty and Glory and Charlie and Faith.

I could feel myself getting ready to cry for the first time since I had been here and I didn't want to lose control like that, but I was just so lonely. I took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of my emotions. I thought of Momma telling me to be strong, but that only made it worse.

My tears dripped into the dusty dirt as I lay on the ground and I tried to wipe them off my face, but I only smeared the dirt over my cheeks even more. I had to get control before one of the witches came back. I couldn't let them see me like this.

…

Everett

Levi was crying. I could hear him like he was sitting right next to me. I could hear everyone like they were sitting right next to me and if I didn't already know that I had abilities like Momma and Libby, I would have been scared, but hearing their voices was comforting, especially when Momma began talking to the other hunters that she had invited to the house. They were finally coming for us.

The last few weeks had been hard. Delilah came to me almost every day, trying to make me break or have a tantrum, but I hadn't given in. I had been strong. Momma would have been so proud of me.

It was getting harder and harder every day, though. Being away from my sisters and my mom made ignoring the Mark harder and harder. The pain that pulsed through my arm was getting hot and the anger that I felt on a pretty constant basis was getting harder to ignore, but my thoughts shifted again.

I hated Delilah. I hated the witches. I hated being here, tied to this chair in this dark room. I wanted it all to burn to the ground.

I was distracted from my hatred momentarily by movement on the other side of the door and I took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on the rage I felt towards Delilah. I didn't want to cave. I didn't want to do what she was asking me to do.

"Good morning, my prodigy," Delilah greeted sweetly. It was an act. It was all fake.

My hate returned.

Delilah sauntered up to me, leaving the heavy metal door open behind her. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to smile as she brought me a tray of food. "Hungry this morning?" she asked, holding out a juice box.

The truth was that I was starving, but out of sheer stubbornness, I closed my mouth tightly and turned away from her. I had no idea how I still felt this strong without having eaten in three days.

"Well, you're going to have to eat eventually," Delilah continued, setting the tray in my lap. I did what I could to try and tip it over, but she had me tied down so tightly that I couldn't budge an inch. Slowly, carefully, she turned and pulled another chair near me, sitting down and crossing her legs as she stared at me. "You are a fighter, aren't you," she praised. "That's why I picked you, you know. You're the strongest out of all of the Winchester children. You have the most power. You have the most ability."

I squeezed my teeth together, still turning away from her.

"The Gatekeeper of Hell," she sighed. "What a dream to have him right here on this property, under my roof. Do you know what you'll be able to do?" Delilah smiled and leaned forward, wrapping one of her golden red curls around her index finger. "So much more than we could have ever done. Even as his own children, he would have never given us this much power."

Delilah was finally getting some of my attention. Narrowing my eyes, I tried not to turn towards her, but before I realized it, I was turning to face Delilah. "What?" I asked, unable to stop myself. "Who's children?"

"Oh, that's right," she whispered, smiling broadly. "You don't know my history."

I stared, focusing my eyes on her and my mood shifted once more. Taking a deep breath and finally deciding to try and take back some control, I waited patiently for her to continue, "Tell the truth," I demanded quietly.

Delilah's green eyes flicked up at me; surprise tracing through her delicate features. "Tell the truth?" she repeated, tilting her head gently at me. "Yes, little one, I will."

The Mark on my arm pulsed with irritation, knowing that somehow, she was resisting my demands. It may have been because she was an adult, or it may have something to do with the fact that she wasn't entirely human, but I refused to give up so easily. I was done being at her beck and call. Leaning forward, making sure to make eye contact, I pushed my thoughts harder onto Delilah's subconsciousness. "I mean it," I repeated. "Tell me the truth."

The lines of Delilah's face smoothed out and for the first time since I had been in her prison cell, I had the control that I had pushed for the entire time. Apparently, Libby had been right the whole time about my abilities. I had to want it more than anything.

At home, I knew Momma was on to me. I knew that she knew about me and my sisters' abilities to talk to each other without saying anything out loud. I knew that she was perfectly aware that we had been practicing our mind games with each other. What I didn't know, though, was if Momma knew that I had tried countless times to get my way about trivial things at school and with my friends and teachers. Libby and me had the same types of things happen to us: we would want something bad enough and it would just happen, especially if we demanded it aloud.

The first time it happened, I was at school and a kid I didn't like had the pencil I wanted. It was new and pointy; freshly sharpened and it had a new eraser. My pencil was dull and ugly. I remembered looking up at him and taking a deep breath, and in a quiet voice, I said, "I want that pencil."

I remember being shocked because he didn't hesitate. Without questioning me, he shoved the pencil towards me and waited for me to take it. Since then, I had been practicing on other kids my age and more often than not, I got what I wanted.

This was the first time I had ever succeeded with an adult.

Delilah's face remained stoic, but she took a deep breath and leaned closer to me, whispering as if she held and elusive secret. I didn't move; afraid that if I did, my movements would break the spell and I would lose my chance.

"I am not a witch," Delilah breathed. "I know spells and curses and I know how to use my words to cause pain and wreak havoc on those who I want to suffer, because I have suffered." Her pale eyes found mine and I stared back, still holding my breath. "I am ancient. I am one of the originals."

Comprehension dawned on me finally and I nodded, agreeing with her. "You're an angel," I whispered.

"I am," she agreed, leaning even closer. "I was favored, along with my brothers and my sisters. We had a special place in Father's heart. Then the humans came along and we were shunned." Suddenly, she launched into an angry pace pattern around the dingy cell and I struggled to keep control of my excitement.

If Delilah was an angel, Momma and Dad would have no trouble defeating her. They would win.

"Lucifer was right," Delilah was saying, facing the opposite wall. "He was right from the beginning and I should have followed him from the beginning, but I was too infatuated with them. With all of them."

I watched her with careful eyes and without concentrating on what I was saying, I asked, "With who?"

Slowly, Delilah shook her head and looked carefully down at her hands. "Who?" she asked quietly, her voice void of the anger it had only moments ago. I was losing control of her. She turned slowly back towards me and took another breath. "I was infatuated with man," she murmured. "With the power they had over Heaven and Earth, and eventually Hell and Purgatory."

Immediately, I was confused. "How did we have power over all of those places?" I asked. "Humans live on Earth."

She smiled coyly; the first emotion she had shown me in the last few minutes. The magic of my demand had almost worn off. "Yes," she whispered, "but the demons and angels and creatures of the night have been warring over them for the last few millennia. We all want control. We all want their souls."

Delilah stared down at her hands once more and took a deep breath, tilting her head curiously once more. She looked up at me slowly, a careful smile touching her lips. "Well," she whispered, tilting her head and staring at me curiously. "That is surprising. You have even more power than I thought."

"I'm full of surprises," I commented, my arm pulsing in pain as my Mark glowed red in the dark. Closing my eyes, I tried to control the rage, but it was too late. I finally gave in and the room went white.

…

Dean

"Getting the angels back is my first priority," Grace was saying, leaning slightly on the dining room table for support. She was exhausted and it showed. "Getting them back will make sure that we have the firepower to—"

Suddenly, Grace's voice faltered and she stepped to the side, almost losing her balance. Her hands splayed across the table, gripping it for dear life, trying not to collapse to the ground. I was on her in seconds, Serra in my wake.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I muttered, catching her and lowering her into a chair. "What's happening, gorgeous?"

Out of instinct, the other hunters scattered through our living room were on their feet, some of them pulling guns from everywhere and turning, ready to shoot on sight. Bill and Santiago were closest to Grace and me, and with Serra, they cleared a path to keep the area immediately around my wife clear.

"Grace?" Serra asked, worry finding her voice. "Gracie, what's wrong?"

Her eyes were rolled up into the back of her head and she seemed to be struggling with staying conscious. I held her up with my chest as I reached for her face, gently tapping her cheek with the palm of my hand. "Grace, don't go out. Tell me what to do," I pleaded. "What's happening?"

This was familiar to me and I couldn't really put my finger on why. I glanced up at Serra and shook my head. "I don't know what to do," I whispered, "she's not responding."

From behind me, I heard Sam's voice, "She looks like she did when she used to have visions," he commented. "Back in the day."

Serra's eyebrows knitted together and she shook her head, "I don't remember her ever looking like that," she replied. "She didn't roll her eyes back like that."

Sam shrugged, "She used to freeze like that, though," he argued. "Unresponsive, frozen in time…I dunno, guys. If I didn't know any better…"

Bill continued, "She looked like that the first time I remember her having a vision."

"You were there?" Serra asked, glancing up at the older man. "When?"

Licking his lips and putting his hands in his pockets, Billy took a deep breath. "She was in the shop, first time it happened with your Daddy. You stayed at home with Emery." He nodded towards Grace once more. "Looked just like that, then just about passed out."

Grace's eyes were blinking rapidly as if she was dreaming, and then suddenly, went limp in my arms. "Guys, move back," I grunted, awkwardly trying to move my wife to the floor without hurting her. "Move the table back."

Tulley and Fred stepped forward, helping Sammy and Serra pull the dining room table out of the way. "What is happening about her?" Tulley's deep voice demanded. "She is sick?"

I shook my head, "No," I struggled for words. "She's…we think she's having a vision."

Winnifred stepped forward and crossed her arms over her broad chest. "A vision? I thought you said that her abilities were sapped? That the witch took her powers?"

Serra whipped around to face both Alaskans. "It's not like we have an owner's manual on her, Fred," she spat. "It's kinda learn as you go."

I held Grace over my lap, keeping her from rolling to the hard floor. Suddenly, her body went rigid and I stared at her, waiting to see what she would do next. "Grace?" I asked gently. "Can you hear me, honey?"

Grace's ice blue eyes whipped open and stared straight ahead, not seeing anything besides what was happening in her own mind. Finally, she whispered, "Everett."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sam

I watched my brother and sister-in-law carefully as Grace finally gained full awareness from her place on the floor of the dining room cradled in Dean's lap. She was incredibly pale and her hair was matted to the back of her neck. She was covered in a sheen of sweat and took short, shallow breaths.

Serra was already taking vitals, leaning close to her sister and checking her pulse and feeling her forehead. "What did you see?" she asked quietly. "Was it a vision?"

Grace's eyebrows creased confusedly, making her look much older than she was. The hunters scattered through the living room were obviously agitated and nervous; some of them pacing around the room with their guns still drawn. "This shit is makin' me jumpy," Anthony muttered quietly to Byron. "I don't think this is what we signed up for, man."

Rolling her eyes, Serra answered him without looking up, "You're welcome to leave," she muttered. "No one's making you stay."

Byron smiled wistfully, "Nah, I think it's all so fascinating!"

Anthony shook his head and turned away from the scene, looking out onto the front property. Refocusing my attention on Serra, I took a careful breath. "Is she okay?"

"I think so," she muttered, still staring at her sister. "But her pulse is racing and she's clammy. Probably running a fever."

Glancing up, Dean took a careful breath, "Do you think her powers are trying to come back?"

"I don't know," Serra replied. "This is all so weird."

"I saw her," Grace whispered, ignoring everything else that was going on. "I saw her."

Dean flicked his eyes up to me; looking worried. "Her?" he asked. "Delilah?" He brushed her hair out of her face lovingly, staring at his wife upside down.

"I saw her," she repeated, not acknowledging any of us.

…

Dean

I had never missed Cas more than I did right now. He would know what to do. He would be able to fix Grace and he would know exactly where my kid was. He would be able to stop Delilah and get everything back to normal so my kids could just have an average life.

I ached at the idea that my kids would never know normal again.

"Grace?" I asked again as she closed her eyes, looking exhausted. "Come on, gorgeous. Naptime's over."

Taking a deep breath, Grace slowly sat up and looked back at all the staring faces of the hunters that surrounded us. I really hoped than none of them took a shot at her.

Serra stood and watched her sister carefully, glancing back at Sam nervously, but offered her hand to Grace and helped her to her feet. "You alright?" she asked quietly as Grace stood to her full height.

"Yeah," Grace whispered as I stood behind her. "I saw them. Everett and Delilah. They were in a cell with a dirt floor and a heavy metal door. Ev is tied to a chair in the middle of a sigil that looks like this," she reached for the pen that lay in the middle of the dining room table and began to draw on the map of Kansas in front of her. "He's angry that she has Levi separated away from him and he's having a harder time controlling his rage towards the situation. I'm pretty sure he had a meltdown."

I couldn't help but stare at my wife, shaking my head slowly in disbelief. "And you saw all of this in the fifteen seconds that you passed out?" I asked, "After weeks of having no power or abilities at all, all of the sudden you can see and hear them?"

Grace stopped drawing and glanced up at me. For the first time in months, her eyes flashed the angelic ice blue that I was so familiar with and I wasn't able to stop the smile that spread across my face, seeing my wife as back to normal as she could be. "I think his tantrum knocked Delilah out," she explained to my smile. "As far as I know, she is unconscious and I can see and hear things that she has been hiding from me for weeks. I don't know how long it'll last, though."

Serra turned and tossed Grace a notepad. Without looking up at her sister, Grace caught the notepad and immediately began writing details from her vision of Everett and Delilah.

"Everett was awake and aware when she took them," she was saying as she took notes. "Delilah teleported the boys to a point where they picked up a truck…like a semi or something and drove the rest of the way. Her witches were driving…they passed through rolling green hills of grass and cows. Lots of cows." A crowd of hunters were beginning to gather around my wife, watching her write notes and glance up at me occasionally.

"Cows and rolling green hills are everywhere across the U.S.," Fred commented offhandedly. "That doesn't exactly narrow anything down."

Grace was nodding her agreement and shrugged, "I'm just telling you what I saw. I feel like I don't have a long time to get more details out of Everett, so I'm just river-mouthing it right now."

I smiled at the phrase Grace used so often for our daughters' inability to hold their tongues when being asked to describe something. When Liberty and Glory got talking, it was hard to get them to stop, like a river mouth. It was hard not to be almost giddy, seeing Grace be more like herself than she had since Everett had been taken.

"Does he know you can hear him?" I asked, leaning forward.

Grace nodded once, "I'm pretty sure. I don't think Lee knows, though. He's separated and," Grace held her breath and searched for the words. "He's sad. Really sad."

Serra held Grace's gaze long enough to exchange a thought or two. I had never been so accepting of being left out of a conversation. The sisters could communicate telepathically for as long as they wanted: it meant that Grace still had her nephilim abilities.

Suddenly, Serra took a breath, leaning over towards Grace's drawing. "What is this?" Serra asked, stepping forward and pointing hard at Grace's notepad drawings. "Is that supposed to be a sign?"

Grace nodded once, glancing sidelong at her sister. "Like a welcome to the city sign," Grace answered, considering her drawing momentarily. "I can't see the whole thing. It's like the boys didn't know how to read it because I only have the first part of the city."

"Ellie?" Serra asked, doubtful. "I've never heard of a city that starts with Ellie."

"Ele," Grace corrected her, shrugging. "Like elevator."

Shaking her head, Serra turned towards Sam, "Get a search running for any town in the country that starts like elevator."

As Sammy pulled out his phone, there was a knock on the front door and Grace glanced up, surprised. "Are you expecting anyone else?" I asked. "Seems like we're kinda tapped out."

"I had a couple on the list that said they'd try to make it," Grace answered. "Someone open the door." She was smiling before Tulley had made it to the doorknob, obviously already knowing who it was. I couldn't describe to you how reassuring it was to have Grace's abilities back, if only temporarily.

Standing in the doorway, dressed in plain clothes, was the first familiar face that had shown since we had begun welcoming hunters into our home. Donna Hascum stood, waving obnoxiously at me and Sam from the doorway. I laughed in reply, hurrying to the door to welcome her in.

"Holy shit, it's good to see a familiar face," I whispered into her wild blonde hair. "Thank you so much for coming."

Grace and Sam were right behind me, hugging Donna in turn, and ushering her into the house. "Looks like we got a bit of the law on our side too," Sam chuckled. "It's good to see you. How long can you stay?"

Donna giggled and shrugged, "I'm on assignment from South Dakota, watchin' some 'trucker drug running' scheme here in Topeka," she explained, using her fingers as air quotes. "There's not much to watch, though. My partner's kind of, well…" she giggled again. "He's bossy."

"Good," Sammy reiterated. "Means you can spend more time here with us."

"Darn-tootin'," Donna exclaimed, but then seemed to realize how dire the situation was and the smile slid off of her face. "I'm real sorry to hear about your babies."

I licked my lips, nodding once and glancing at Sam. "Us too, Donna," I started. "But now you're here."

Grace was back at the table, continuing her note taking process, but she was beginning to lose some of her rigid posture and I knew either Delilah was regaining consciousness or someone else was taking over the spell that bound Grace's abilities.

"I need a map," she slurred, shaking her head. "There's another town that I heard that I know was close."

"Close?" I asked, "Close to what?"

"The elevator town," Grace whispered, using the table as support. I moved closer to her, preparing myself to catch my wife before she hit the ground. "There's a town that sounds like a pastry, like an éclair," she muttered.

"Here in Kansas?" Sam asked, doubtful.

Grace was shaking her head. "Not in Kansas," she whispered.

Donna grinned, raising her eyebrows, "There's a town in Wisconsin called Eau Claire!" All eyes turned towards the newcomer and waited for further explanation. "It's a tiny little town, but it's got some good shoppin'. A real good sports store where you can really get yourself decked out with Packers gear."

"Eau Claire, Wisconsin?" Sam asked, turning towards Grace. "Do you think that's it?"

Grace was nodding. "Levi thought it sounded like an éclair when they passed by," she smiled and glanced at Serra. "His reading is getting better."

I turned and smiled at Donna, "See? Things are turning around already, with you here. Ever heard of a town that starts like 'elevator'?" I was already taking the map of Wisconsin my brother handed me from across the table to lay it in front of Donna. This was finally the break that we needed.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Castiel

We had finally found a place in Sabina's subconscious that seemed safe enough to hunker down and take a few minutes to get our bearings. It seemed redundant that we continued to wander, when really, there was no door out.

There hadn't been any movements from the witches in what seemed like days, but time was irrelevant here, especially considering that as angels, we had no need to eat or sleep. Once again, I was incredibly thankful that Grace had made it out.

As we rested, I allowed my senses to extend to their fullest potential, and once again, was met with what felt like walls, blocking me in; keeping us prisoner. Glancing at Lucia, she seemed to have already come to the same conclusion, so in a human movement, I shrugged at her.

"I'm unsure as to what to do next," I commented, turning to face my counterpart as I sat on a log. "The witches are gone; either distracted by something or someone, but we remain locked in here. I have no idea how to get us out."

Lucia considered me momentarily and took a deep, thoughtful breath before she spoke. "The Winchesters will figure something out. This arrangement…us trapped in her mind doesn't seem like it's meant to harm us. It is as if Delilah is simply keeping us out of the way."

"That's what concerns me," I muttered. "I hope—"

My thought was interrupted by a familiar voice breaking through the wall of Sabina's subconscious in a way that I had not heard since we had become captives. My eyes flew open in recognition of her voice, coming to me as clearly as if she was standing next to me.

"Grace," I whispered, standing from the log. "I can hear her. Can you?"

Lucia nodded; her blue eyes wide in surprise. "How can we hear her all of a sudden? What changed?"

I shook my head, closing my eyes and focusing on Grace's voice. She seemed unaware of the fact that I was now able to be a part of her internal monologue, but I wasted no time in trying to make contact. "Grace?" I murmured. "Grace, can you hear me?"

Waiting patiently, I struggled to hold onto her commentary, but it already seemed to be fading from my mind. "Grace, wait," I said again, almost pleading. "I can hear you."

With that, Grace's voice was gone and once again, the thick walls blocking us into Sabina's subconscious returned. Frustrated, I turned and slapped a rock off of the top of the log, and watched it fall into the stream below. I had never felt so helpless.

…

Grace

"Sounds like 'elevator'?" Donna asked, leaning over the map, staring at the outlines and towns scattered all over Wisconsin. "I don't know…seems like a stretch."

I smiled gently. "Come on," I reassured her, "you got Eau Claire from éclair like it was nothing."

"That's because I like pastries," Donna commented, shrugging lightly. "I'm not as fond of elevators."

Tapping the map with my fingertips, I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. "Okay," I sighed, leaning away from the map but still using the dining room table as a support. "I'm pretty sure that I'm about at the end of my abilities again. She must be conscious or something because the spell is blocking me again." I turned to Donna and Jody, who had reappeared from the basement to greet her friend. "You two keep looking for the elevator town and the rest of us are going to get to work on the other assignments that I've got in my head."

I walked over to Billy carefully, using the table as a support. Being given my abilities back and then having them taken away so quickly made me shaky and it hadn't gotten past Dean. He was following me around as if I would pass out any minute.

He was probably right.

"Billy," I began, reaching the kitchen. "I want you, Seeder, Fred, and Tulley trying to find a spell that can be used to bring the angels back." He was nodding as I gestured to the living room where Cas and Lucia's vessels still stood hauntingly. I lowered my voice and leaned towards Bill and Tulley. "Watch Seeder. He's an ass and I'm not sure if he's entirely loyal. If you have any doubts, you tell me or my sister immediately."

"Why for you keeping him around?" Tulley asked, lowering his voice.

Attempting a smile, I shrugged. "If nothing else, Tull, you'll have someone to kill." I looked back at Billy. "He's a witch…he's gotta know something about the spell that holding them in Sabina. Reverse it."

"What if we just kill the girl?" Winnifred suggested. "Wouldn't that release the hold she's got on them?"

I sighed slowly, "I don't think it's Sabina holding the angels in. She just seems to be an unfortunate happenstance."

My sister appeared behind me and smiled wickedly. "I've been on board with killing her since the beginning," she muttered. "Tulley, if it comes to that, I give you my blessing."

"No one is killing Sabina. She's involved somehow and I need more information," I answered, turning to face Serra. "It's the reason we went into her subconscious in the first place."

"Yeah, that went well," Serra answered sarcastically. "You ended up getting bounced back with no powers and Crowley took our kids."

I shook my head. "Crowley didn't take our kids," I sighed. "Delilah used him to track them here."

"Still guilty," Serra muttered.

"Are you going to help or just sit here and rant?" I asked, turning and putting my hands on my hips.

Serendipity raised her eyebrows. "I'm waitin' for orders, boss," she exclaimed. "Just standing around, wasting time!"

"You and Sam get out to the barn and test our theory," I commanded. "If I can use you in a fight, I need to know how much blood you need, how long you last, and how hard you crash."

Serra didn't waste another second of time. "On it," she grunted, nodding once. Serra turned, striding directly towards her husband, grabbing him by the flannel, and pulled him through the kitchen and out into the property between our houses.

Heading back into the living room, I addressed the rest of the hunters. "Okay, y'all," I began. "The rest of you are going on a witch hunt." There was an eager murmur through the crowd, a few smiles reaching bearded faces as they nodded happily. "The hunt will probably center on or around the town of Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I'm thinking it's the home turf of whoever is in charge of this whole thing." I pressed my lips together and took a deep breath. "I will start a group text of everyone here. Check in telling each person who you are and keep in contact. If I don't hear from you at least once a day, I will assume the worst and write you off." I hesitated and lowered my voice, knowing I was breaking some sort of loyalty 'leave no man behind' code. I continued, keeping my voice steady, "There's no coming after you. We've got bigger problems."

Santiago and Carlos were already gathering their things and headed towards the porch with cousins Diego and Rosa in their wake. Byron and Anthony followed, Paul hesitating long enough to smile at me. I pressed my lips together and nodded at him, acknowledging what these hunters were sacrificing in order to help us.

"Keep the witches alive," I shouted above the crowd. "I want information on Delilah. I want locations. I want as many details as you can get out of them."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Levi

Delilah was angry. She was the most angry I had ever seen her and I hid the smile that touched my lips as she paced by me again.

"I don't care who you have to kill," she was muttering, almost under her breath. "I don't care who you have to torture, you find me Crowley. You find that cowardly bastard and you bring him to me."

The witches in the room nodded enthusiastically, but looked scared out of their minds. They wrung their hands together and followed Delilah's movements with only their eyes. I watched happily from my place on the dirt floor.

"As for you," Delilah turned and pointed to me threateningly. "You are going to work this stone, or I will begin taking you apart, a piece at a time."

Lifting my eyebrows slowly, I tilted my head at her. "If you take me apart," I sighed, "you're just going to end up back where you started: with no one to control the Weapons Stone. Killing me isn't going to solve the problem, especially considering that if you do, my mom will kill you pretty hard."

Delilah was breathing heavily. Her frustration was through the roof and I had to be honest with myself: it felt pretty good, knowing that I was getting her this angry.

Suddenly, she turned towards the witches and screamed, "He doesn't eat. He doesn't drink. He doesn't get _shit_ until he makes that stone work." The witches nodded quickly. "Nothing, you hear me? _Nothing._ "

Whipping back around to face me, Delilah gave me a triumphant smile. I smiled back.

With that, she turned and strode out of the cell, the witches close in her wake. The door slammed behind them and once again, I was locked in the dark, dirty cell alone, but for the first time, I felt like I was winning.

Walking slowly to the wooden bench that one of the witches had given me earlier, I moved it aside and pulled a bag free from the dirt. Shaking it free of dust, I opened it to pull out three crackers from the horde that I had been stockpiling for the last few weeks. They weren't very good, but they were what I needed them to be: food. I figured if I ate slowly, I would survive at least a week without getting any more meals. The only thing I was worried about was water.

As if on cue, I could hear the roll of thunder in the distance and taking a deep breath, I felt the grin tug at the side of my mouth. Luck was still on my side; after all, it was in my genetic code.

Wandering over to a large bucket, I picked it up, dusted it off and placed it under the loose skylight that had leaked water all over me the first night I was locked in here. I had slept on the opposite side of the cell since then, but tonight, I would be collecting plenty of rainwater. All I had to do was wait.

…

Sam

I watched warily as Serra set up the transfusion system in our dining room, getting ready to take more of my blood, to, in theory, regain the same powers that she had in the hospital. I still had my doubts, but my wife was more than certain that this was the way she had done it. With Grace now backing the idea, I had nothing to do but complete the experiment and hope the sisters were right.

"Okay," Serra muttered. "You ready?"

I shrugged, rolling up my sleeve. "I guess," I answered. "But I can't shake the feeling that this is a little too much like drinking demon blood."

Taking a slow audible breath, Serra stared at me for a long time before she answered, her dark green hazel eyes searching my face. "We're connected for a reason, Sammy," she began. "I've always thought that. Grace was connected to Dean in such a cosmic way; I knew our connection had to be similar. I've been waiting for years for something like this to surface." She swallowed. "Don't you think?" Still staring at me, she raised her eyebrows, the sass I was waiting for finally reaching the surface, "Besides, you're not a demon."

I stared at her hands as she prepped the needle and used a cotton ball soaked with alcohol to clean a spot on my arm as I sat down. "Yeah," I replied, nodding slowly. "I never really thought about it that way, though." I took a slow breath and turned my head to study her porcelain face. "I was just too in love with you to question why."

Serra glanced at me as she worked, smiling sadly. Pressing her lips together, she slid the needle into my arm and waited patiently as the blood began filling the plastic tubing that connected her arm to mine. We waited silently as the connection was made and I turned to watch her carefully for any signs of change.

"It didn't happen right away," she whispered, smiling at me as I studied her. "You might as well get comfortable."

"If it comes down to a fight, how are we going to do this quickly?" I asked, still watching my wife's face. "It's not like we can hook up while we are going hand to hand with a bunch of witches."

Licking her lips, Serendipity hesitated. "Well," she sighed. "Maybe I can drink it."

My eyes flicked to hers in surprise. "You're not serious," I said, deadpan.

Serra shrugged. "I don't know, Sam," she whined. "This isn't exactly familiar territory to me. I'm used to my sister being the freak."

"Grace isn't a freak."

Raising her eyebrows at me, Serra tilted her head. "She is," she replied. "But I use that as a term of endearment. Trust me, I would much rather leave the specialized abilities to the Nephilim. I'd rather just be able to shoot the bad guys."

I stared at the plastic tubing again. "You're not drinking my blood, Serra," I muttered.

"I know," she sighed. "Maybe there's a way I can store it in injectors," she continued. "Like an Epi-Pen. When shit hits the fan, I can just hit a few vials and be done with it."

"We need to figure out how much it takes."

"Add it to the list."

…

Grace

"Momma?" Liberty approached me slowly as I stacked book after book onto the dining room table.

I glanced up and smiled gently at my eldest daughter. "Hi, baby," I greeted quietly. "What's up?"

Lib gained confidence and moved towards me, holding a tape recorder in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. "I want to show you something," she explained quietly. Looking around nervously at the remaining hunters in our living room, I could tell that she was hesitant to share her treasures with anyone else.

I glanced up at Dean and he nodded. "Take as much time as you need," he answered my silent question quietly. "We all have jobs. Right now, she's yours."

Smiling gently at my husband, I nodded and led Liberty back towards our bedroom and shut the door. "What's up, kiddo? Where did you find the tape recorder?"

"Uncle Sammy gave it to me a long time ago. He told me that sometimes he thinks of something important and his brain goes too fast for his hands." She held out the tape recorder and smiled. "He says it's easier for him to talk into this than it is to write it down. I think I have some of the same problems."

I smiled at the idea that Sammy and Lib had so many similar characteristics. They were both hard core academics and wanted nothing more than to learn everything they could about subjects that interested them. I sat on the bed I shared with my husband and patted the space next to me. "Come up here and we'll talk," I beckoned.

Libby climbed up onto the bed and smiled to herself, getting comfortable among Dean's pillows. "Glory had a dream," she began, staring at the tape recorder in her hands. "She was on Jody's bed and she fell asleep awhile ago, and then she started talking while she was asleep."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, interested. Glory and Everett had been sleep-speaking since they were old enough to form words. "What did she have to say?"

Holding up the tape recorder, Liberty took a deep breath. "At first, she was asking for Everett, and I didn't think that was weird, because we all miss him so much." Lib licked her lips, forcing her dimples to show and overwhelmingly, she reminded me of Dean.

I nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue.

She took a deep breath and added, "But then she said her name."

Staring at my daughter, I refrained from reacting. I knew very well that Liberty was referring to Delilah, but I wanted her to say the words. "Who's name?" I asked, leaning forward.

"Delilah."

Very slowly, I let out the breath I had been holding and nodded. "What happened next?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the rest.

Looking down at the tiny tape recorder, Liberty found the 'play' button and pressed it, glancing back up at me as I leaned closer still, trying to hear sound from the tiny speaker. I closed my eyes, hoping it would help me ignore the sounds of our creaky old farm house, but my senses were dulled since my angelic abilities had gone dormant.

There was a static sound that was reminiscent of sheets rustling or blankets being shuffled, and then there was babbling in the background, obviously from one of the babies. Finally, I could hear Glory's small voice, almost whispering to herself.

"Delilah, no," she muttered; and again, the sound of thrashing blankets and rustling sheets came through the speaker. "No, I won't."

I opened my eyes to stare at my daughter, who continued to hold the tape recorder out to me. "There's more," Liberty whispered. I took the recorder and held it to my ear, still straining to hear every word that Glory may have uttered.

She began again, "Delilah holds me here," Glory whispered. "I want to come home. You find me, Momma. I'm here."

Suddenly, I realized that Glory was no longer the soul behind the voice. Everett was somehow using his twin sister to share his thoughts with his family, even though it was only Liberty and the babies in the same room. My mouth dropped open in surprise. My children never ceased to amaze me.

"There was a truck," Glory's voice continued. "A truck took us through the farms and there was a witch with us the whole time. They tried to keep me and Levi asleep, but I kept waking up to see things."

Whipping around towards the bedroom door, I shouted, "Dean! Get in here and listen to this!"

My husband didn't hesitate. I could hear his footsteps echo through the dining room and into the living room, trying to get to us as quickly as possible without actually running. I pressed 'stop' on the recorder and rewound it a few seconds, cueing it up for him as he pushed the door open.

"What?" Dean asked, breathless, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded, smiling at Liberty. "Big sister was paying attention," I continued, pressing 'play' once again. "Listen to this."

Silently, we both leaned towards the recorder once again and I took a deep breath, smiling as Glory's small voice began once more over the speakers. "I want to come home," she breathed. "You find me, Momma. I'm here."

Dean's green eyes flicked to mine and I smiled and nodded, "She's asleep, talking for Everett. He's using her to speak."

"Son of a bitch," Dean breathed, still wide-eyed and listening intently.

Glory repeated, "There was a truck. A truck took us through the farms and there was a witch with us the whole time. They tried to keep me and Levi asleep, but I kept waking up to see things."

I took a deep breath, ready to hear the rest of what our twins were trying to tell us. "There was a town that started with the same letters as 'elevator' like 'Eleva' or something. There was a lot of churches through the town and there was a big pond when we turned right on a corner with a grave yard next to it." I flicked my eyes towards my husband once more and he was practically pressed against the recorder, absorbing everything our son said through our daughter's voice.

"There was another town sign right before we stopped called 'Strum.' There's a big brick church and a tiny grocery store where they bring us food from." Glory took a deep, gasping breath, as if she was emotional; close to tears. "They stopped…they stopped feeding Lee because they're mad at him." Glory gasped again, trying to control her emotions. "I don't really know what they want me to do, but they want Lee to make Auntie Luck's Stone work."

"She has a Weapons Stone," I whispered, unable to help my surprise. "How did she get a Weapons Stone?"

Glory was silent for more than a few seconds and I glanced up at Liberty questioningly. She nodded, "She goes a bit more," she replied, motioning towards the recorder.

It was silent again over the speakers, with only the sounds of Glory's heavy breathing. Finally, she took another deep breath. "I got mad, Momma," Everett continued. "I got really mad and exploded everything in my room. I knocked Delilah down and she hasn't moved in awhile. At first, I was sorry that I exploded things, but now I think I'm going to do it again, but later when she doesn't think I'm going to do it. Then I will be able to hear you again."

I took a deep, ragged breath through my nose, nodding at the recorder as if Everett could see me. Liberty reached out to take the recorder and sighed quietly. "She woke up after that," Lib whispered. "She didn't know she had been talking."

Dean and I turned to stare at each other. Finally, we had actual locations to work off of, instead of the fuzzy memories I had from when I had a taste of my abilities back. _We're coming,_ I thought. _We're coming, baby._


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Dean

My first impulse was to grab the bottle of Jameson from the kitchen counter and just start chugging, but because my kids were involved, I withstood the temptation. I glanced at Billy, wishing only for about thirty seconds that he was Bobby, and smiled weakly.

"Sounds like you've got a lead," Bill muttered, holding out a glass of amber liquid.

I took the glass and hesitated, "I just talked myself out of drinking," I stated, glancing at the older man. "And yeah, looks like Glory's got her own set of talents."

"Had she not shown any abilities before?" Bill asked, pouring his own glass and getting comfortable.

I shrugged and set the glass on the table on top of the map that Grace had laid out earlier. "She can communicate telepathically and she's perpetually happy, but those aren't exactly cosmic-level, new to us abilities, you know?" Leaning over the map of Wisconsin, I followed Donna's gaze as she searched for Strum, the town that Glory had relayed from Everett. "She's just always been my happy, middle kid."

Bill stood and smiled as Donna pointed victoriously. "Here," she said. "Found it. Strum, Wisconsin."

All three of us stared at the tiny dot on the map. "Okay," I sighed. "Let's get packed."

…

"This is Paul, come in Santiago," Paul clicked the CB radio on the dash of his Ford dually. "Santi, come back?"

"Hello, Paul," Santiago answered. "I thought we agreed on radio silence?"

Paul sighed, trying to decide how to continue. "I know, I know," he replied. "But we're heading to Eleva, per Grace's request. You joining us there or are you heading to Eau Claire?"

Santiago nodded to the CB mic even though Paul couldn't see him. "We'll going to Eleva too. Carlo found us a warehouse outside of town that's abandoned. We can take who we need to take there, without being noticed."

Paul nodded once, "Sounds good." He was about to sign out, but hesitated, holding the mic to his face for longer than he needed to. "Look, Santi," he began. "You were right."

"About Grace?" Santiago answered smugly. "I know."

"I had no idea that she was half angel."

Santiago shrugged his shoulders. "When you see someone fight the way she does, you know she can't be completely human," he commented. "It's just a shame that you have shared her bed, but still didn't notice. I'm not sure that confirms your skills as a hunter."

Paul chuckled to himself and shook his head, "Well, Santi," he sighed, "I'm still not sure I should even be a hunter. Grace has told me that from the beginning. Saved my ass more times than I can count." He glanced to his passenger, lifting his eyebrows. "Even Pete wonders how I'm still alive."

Santiago laughed over the CB, "Peter Hillenbrand is not one to talk."

"Alright, alright," Paul answered, shaking his head. "See you in Eleva. Over and out."

…

Dean

Liberty and Glory accompanied me out to the barn, running way ahead of me and scaring the crows from the field into flight. Grace was in, taking a nap before we headed for the great unknown, trying to salvage what energy she had so she wouldn't be caught with her guard down when it came to a fight. I was hoping that Serra's blood training was going well…she seemed to be the only arsenal we had at our disposal lately.

Approaching the barn, Lib called for Serra before she pushed the doors open, "Auntie?" she shouted. "Don't throw anything at me okay? It's me!"

Sammy's voice answered as he pushed open the door, "Hey, Lib," he greeted, glancing up at me. "What's going on?"

"We're here to tell you that Glory talked for Everett!" she bounded inside, her blonde curls bouncing behind her. "He told us where he is!"

Sam's hazel eyes flicked to mine immediately, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle of his forehead. "Are you serious?" he asked, really talking to me. "We have a location?"

I shrugged, following Lib and Glory inside the barn. "If we can take what a Nephilim/Mark of Cain hybrid's twins say as truth, yeah," I sighed. "Glory was sleeping," I explained, gesturing to my daughter. "The next thing you know, she was talking as if she was Everett and Lib recorded the whole thing." I smiled at my brother, lifting my eyebrows. "Good call on giving her the recorder, by the way."

"Nicely done, Liberty," Sam complimented, holding up his hand to give her a high-five. "You think he's right? We have a town?"

"Strum, Wisconsin," I answered, looking around for Serra. "Grace and I started mapping it out, trying to figure out a battle plan, but she's so exhausted." I licked my lips and leaned against the table and folded my arms across my chest. "She's just not meant to be completely human. She needs her abilities back." I took a breath and glanced around the barn again as the girls began tossing handfuls of hay at each other. "Where's Serra?"

Sammy nodded towards the Little House, "She's storing the blood I gave her. We're gonna see if it's a good way to load her up."

"Is the blood thing working so far?"

Nodding, Sam agreed. "Yeah, I mean, she reminds me of Grace when she was first starting out. Kinda unpredictable, but overall, pretty powerful. She can't really do stuff on command yet, but if I push her and she gets a little pissy at me, she's more successful." He hesitated and stared at the ground long enough to take a deep breath. "Who knew that both of them would have abilities?"

Shrugging, "It's a good thing they do." I smiled then, and nodded, feeling more confident than I had in the last few days. "That's a good start. How long does it take her to load up?"

"The transfusion took about twenty minutes, and then she started to notice a difference after about ten."

"So thirty minutes to get up and running," I commented, nodding. "We'll have to anticipate that, or at least keep her primed on the drive."

Sam leaned against Grace's old, red Toyota, still half covered with a tarp. "I wish we had more time to train," he whispered. "It just seems dangerous, going in with someone who's never actually used her abilities in a life or death situation."

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Sam," I muttered, turning toward my brother. "And don't ever repeat this to Serra, but if anyone's gonna improvise a life-or-death fight with newfound abilities and come out on top, it's gonna be Sere." I tilted my head and shrugged. "Little Miss Warrior of Heaven."

"Warrior of _Fucking_ Heaven," came Serra's voice from behind me.

I rolled my eyes. Of course she heard me.

"Don't let that go to your head. Our asses are all on the line, here," I muttered, holding up my finger towards her face. "Don't let your guard down."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she answered, smiling sweetly at me. "Lookie what I can do."

We all turned to where Serra was pointing and watched as she slid the ammo boxes that were lined up on the table from one side to the other. They stopped neatly in a line just as they reached the end of the table. I had to admit, I was impressed.

"How are you picking it up so quickly?" I asked, nodding towards the table. "It took Grace awhile to get the idea of moving things incrementally."

Serra shrugged and leaned on the table, taking a deep breath before she answered. "I think it's all a matter of confidence. I watched her struggle for so many years, holding her abilities _back_ that I knew what muscle to flex right away. I just did the opposite. As soon as I found something that worked," she took a breath and flicked her head towards the side, closing all the barn doors at once, "I concentrated on doubling that effort and reproducing that one feeling. It's all the stuff I've been watching Grace suffer through, crammed into an hour or so."

"Do you feel spent yet?" I asked, shaking my head at Liberty as she got a little too rough with her sister, rolling around in the hay.

"I did when I moved the tables and chairs," she answered, but as long as I go slow and steady, I don't burn out as fast.

"Still," Sammy added, "we're gonna have to have blood with us at any given time, just to make sure we can reload."

Serra nodded. "Agreed. I have vials in the fridge, about twelve so far. I'll let him rest and harvest another twelve or so tonight."

"Have you tested straight injecting it?" I asked.

"That's next on the list."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Grace

I stood in a black room, surrounded by nothingness. There was no sound, no light. If I didn't have a nagging feeling of being watched, the situation would be quite peaceful.

"Hello?" I asked, looking around, feeling the fine hair on the back of my neck stand at attention. "Is anyone there?"

Suddenly the surrounding area shifted; blackness turning and spinning in front of me, changing into colors that whirled by me, eventually taking the shape of our old bedroom, upstairs. Turning to the side, I could see myself, collapsed on the floor, leaning against the bathroom doorway, sobbing quietly. This whole thing was so confusing…it didn't feel like a dream, but there I was, watching myself break down while my infant laid on the bed, crying his eyes out. Suddenly, I remembered. This was the night that Cas and I time-walked through the possibility of my kids never being born.

I was dumbfounded. I had no idea why I was here or why my mind would choose to relive this night. It was one of my worst memories.

"Grace?" I heard a familiar voice greet me, full of relief and emotion.

Turning, I covered my mouth in shock at seeing him. "Cas," I whispered. "Oh my God, Cas. Are you real?"

He looked as if he could cry as he approached me, spreading his arms wide to wrap me in a warm hug. "I am as real as your subconscious would allow me to be," he answered. We both turned as Dream Cas walked in, speaking to the me that was sitting on the floor with her head in her hands. "I am using this memory as a way to show you how to get us back."

"What?" I asked, still holding Castiel in a fierce hug. "This isn't just a dream?"

"No, Grace," he answered. "This was the only way I could think of to communicate with you."

Finally releasing him from the hug, I held him at arm's length and took a deep breath. "Are you okay? Are the witches still hunting you in Sabina's mind?" I shook my head. "I mean, how is this happening, Cas?"

"They're gone for now," he commented. "And they have been for a while, but I don't know how long they will stay gone. I do not really understand if they are real or a show to keep us distracted." He took a deep breath and stared at our doubles, having an entirely different conversation on their side of the room. "I am convinced that holding us in Sabina's mind is simply a way to keep us away from the main fight. Delilah is not simply a witch. Spell work like this is much too intricate for her to be human."

"Which makes her…" I asked, lifting my eyebrows.

"An angel," Cas replied. "She is able to complete spells that I have never heard of, but do so without hex bags or a Grand Coven. She is holding us here to keep us away from you. She is holding your grace too, I can almost guarantee it."

"How would she have gotten my grace?" I asked, closing my eyes and shaking my head. "Isn't that a little hard to get out of an angel if you don't actually cut them open?"

Castiel shrugged and took a deep breath. "You are not full-angel," he reminded me. "Rules for Nephilim and their grace might be different."

"Okay, so how do we get you guys out of there?" I asked, wanting to hug him again, but restraining.

Smiling, Cas turned towards the dream-us in the corner, then took a deep breath and addressed me again. "I believe you can summon us with a powerful enough spell. I've read about summoning banished angels in the past, but I do not remember where I read it. Sam might remember, or know where to find the information and ingredients."

As I listened, I nodded, "Billy would probably know something like that."

"Bill Griffin is here?" Cas asked, surprised.

"Do you know him?"

Castiel's face lit up into a smile. "Yes," he nodded slowly. "He is friends with a few guardians I know. He gets his information about Heaven and other angels from them." Cas took a deep breath, recharged. "Bill will know what the spell is called and how to complete it. I feel like we are running out of time."

I swallowed, knowing Cas only had our best interests at heart, but I couldn't help asking, "Why? Running out of time? To what, get the boys back?"

"Yes," Cas nodded. "To get Everett and Levi back as well as your grace, with no lasting damage." He glanced back towards dream-us as we stood and apparently began to time travel. The whole situation was very strange. "The weaker your body becomes, the less time we have to get your grace back. The damage to your human body might be too great for your grace to heal, if we wait much longer."

I tilted my head and made a face. "Great," I muttered, "okay. Spell from Billy to summon you back." I repeated, having a new plan. "Stay close to Lucia and we'll pull both of you at the same time."

"You'll need to repeat the spell correctly, over and over," Cas was saying, but his voice was quieter and his form seemed to be fading.

"Cas?" I asked, reaching for him. "What's happening?"

He didn't hear me, but looked back, behind him as if he had heard something. "Repeat the spell and make sure the sigils are _completely_ correct." Cas turned back towards me, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, "The spell I'm thinking of is powerful enough to summon many angels at once, so you're going to have to find a way to make the spell specific to only Lucia and I."

Castiel's form faded suddenly and I again tried to reach for him, not ready to be apart from him again. "Cas, wait," I called into the black that surrounded me once again. "Cas?"

I blinked awake and gasped as I realized that I was alone in my bedroom. It was midday and the birds chirped happily from outside my window. "Son of a _bitch_ ," I breathed.

Shutting my eyes, I struggled to hold onto the dream I had, knowing somewhere deep in my soul that it had really been Cas, coming to tell me how to save both he and Lucia from being trapped inside Sabina. In an instant, I was on my feet, striding towards my bedroom door, but before I got there, my legs completely gave out and I collapsed in a heap at the foot of my side of the bed. I felt dizzy and paralyzed, completely at a loss as to what was happening to me. I struggled to get my wits about me but I didn't have enough energy to call loud enough for Dean.

"Dee—" I whispered, just as I passed out.

…

Serra

From out in the barn, I could swear that I heard my sister's voice, but when I concentrated, I couldn't hear anything at all, which also seemed weird. I stopped moving and closed my eyes, waiting for more information, but I couldn't get a lock on her, which I had been able to do since I had been hopped up on Sam's blood.

"Grace?" I whispered, listening carefully.

Turning from their discussion, Dean narrowed his eyes and tilted his head curiously. "What?" he asked, the edge of fear touching his voice.

My voice was quiet when I answered him, already moving towards the door of the barn, the little girls in my wake. "I heard Grace," I answered as I broke into a run across the field between our houses.

Slamming the back door open, Jody, Emery, Donna, and Bill who had been sitting at the farm table, pouring over books, all glanced up at me with curious looks on their faces. "What's happening, honey?" Em asked, standing from the dining room table.

"Where's Grace?" I asked, not bothering to answer her question.

Emery gestured behind her, towards Grace and Dean's bedroom. "She was taking a nap," she answered, bewildered.

I turned and jogged towards the door as Emery, Jody, Donna, and Bill all followed. Not bothering to knock, I gently pushed the door open and stared at the bed, expecting to see my sister asleep, but the bed was empty. Instead, collapsed at the end of the bed, was Grace's unconscious form. "Jesus," I muttered, kneeling down to her. I checked her pulse and rolled her to her back as the group that had been following me continued into the bedroom.

Dean was the first one next to me on the floor. "What happened?" he asked, staring at his wife.

"Nothing," I muttered. "I think she just passed out." I turned to look at the rumpled bedcovers and shrugged. "I'll bet you she stood up and tried to walk out, but then just fainted. This 'no-grace, all-human' thing is starting to wear on her a bit, I think."

"Is she okay?" Dean reached for her face to turn her head towards him. "Gracie," he whispered. "Come on, naptime's over."

Slowly, Grace's eyes opened and she struggled to focus on his face. "Hey, stranger," she answered. "Why am I on the floor?"

"Looks like walking is getting a bit tough on you," he answered.

I took a deep breath and exhaled quickly. "God, seriously," I commented. "You're getting annoying with no powers."

"Powers," Grace repeated, furrowing her eyebrows. "Oh my god, Cas," she sat up suddenly, weaving a bit as she did so. "I had a dream about Cas, except it wasn't really a dream. He used one of my memories to tell me that there's a summoning spell that is powerful enough to call them back."

Bill nodded from behind me and smiled, "I knew there would be," he commented. "There's always a spell."

"Can you walk?" I asked, offering a hand to my sister. "You need to at least pull your own weight."

Nodding, Grace stood, using Dean as support. "Cas said that Bill would be able to find the spell. You know each other, he said."

"I know a lot of angels," Bill answered, winking. "I had to find out as much as I could before you fully matured. Had to know what we were up against."

In tandem, Grace and I both narrowed our eyes at Billy. "You guys were professional secret keepers, weren't you?" I accused, putting my hands on my hips. "You and Dad?"

Bill Griffin pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. "We were," he sighed. "For that, I will be forever apologetic, but…" he shrugged lightly. "But we had to know what was coming. We had to know what you would be able to do."

Grace took a deep, shaky breath as she led the way slowly, back out into the living room. Libby and Glory were on the floor in front of the TV, watching a cartoon and seemingly undisturbed by their mother's fall. I glanced at the babies in the play yard at the far end of the room and took a deep breath. I felt on edge, even though everyone (except the boys) were safe. This blood high would be hard to get used to.

The knock on the door forced everyone in the room to turn towards the front of the living room and automatically, Sam, Dean, and I reached for the pistols in the waistband of our jeans. Bill turned; waiting to make sure everyone was ready before he opened the door.

There, in the door way, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a beard smiled sheepishly. "Hey, guys," he began gently. "Am I intruding?"


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Dean

This all was getting too much for my melon to process. Grace collapsing _again_ , having everyone here at the same time, trying to get fifteen hunters organized and out, trying to find my kid…I was right on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I had to get my shit together.

Stuart's friendly face definitely made me a little looser, knowing that he was here to learn as much as he could about my family so that for once, I could stop lying to everyone I knew.

"Stu," I greeted, walking towards my friend. "Jeeze, I forgot you were coming."

Sam and Serra immediately put their guns away, going back to their own business and heading back towards the farm table.

Glancing nervously at me, Stu lifted his eyebrows. "This a bad time?" he asked, watching everyone mill about and continue conversations among themselves.

I shook my head. "No," I shrugged, "well, I mean, this whole thing has been a bad time, but no, you're welcome to be here. Things are starting to come together and we're actually pretty close to getting on the road."

Stuart smiled lightly, trying to follow, but he just looked confused. "Here," I said, leading him to the table. "This is my sister-in-law, Serra," Serra glanced up and nodded once, "that's Jody, Emery, Donna, and Bill," I continued, moving around the table. "This is Stu, from the shop."

"Hi, Stu," the crowd greeted, without really looking up.

Serra's voice continued, though she wasn't talking to us. "A spell?" she asked Grace as she sat down next to her sister. "Did Cas give you a book to start in or are we just going to wing it?"

"No, he just said Billy would recognize it as a summoning spell. A really powerful summoning spell and that we would have to do something to personalize it to bring home just Cas and Lucia, not the whole Heavenly Host."

Stu turned towards me and smiled lightly, trying to make light of the situation, "Wow," he muttered. "You weren't kidding."

I pressed my lips together and shook my head slowly. "Nope," I sighed. "This is as real as it gets."

…

Dean

I spent the afternoon catching Stu up; answering questions and tag-teaming story time with Grace. He accepted us without question and offered to help us do the research, searching for the spell that would, in theory, free the angels. The day passed quickly as we continued our research, without much luck. Stuart was as helpful as he could be, but I was tired, frustrated at our lack of progress, and decided to throw in the towel to put the girls to bed.

"I'm gonna go downstairs and tuck Lib and Glory in," I sighed. "I gotta take a break from reading."

There was a collective nod from the table as the group continued to read and scour the journals for anything helpful.

The hours crawled on.

…

Sam

Everyone else had called it a night, but Serra, Bill, and I continued to search through the spell books and journals that piled Dean and Grace's dining room table. It was close to five in the morning when Serra suddenly stood from her place at the table, pointing to a section in a journal and reaching over towards my side of the table, reaching for a spell book that I had recently closed.

"What?" I asked, yawning. "You find something?"

Ignoring me, Serra pulled open the book and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to clear her vision. She had my complete attention as she poured over the books in front of her. I didn't want to ruin her concentration, so I got up to circle around the table, staring over her shoulder at the print in front of my wife.

The spell book was in an ancient dialect of Greek and Serra had the translation open as she still pointed at a place in one of her dad's old hunt journals.

Without warning, Serra picked up her dad's journal and flipped it around to face Bill, "What is this?" she demanded. "I've never seen these symbols before. What do they mean?"

Bill leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. He stared at the symbols written in messy scrawl and shook his head slowly. "It looks angelic, actually," he began quietly. "Maybe Enochian."

"I thought the same thing," Serra explained, turning the ancient Greek book towards Bill as well. "But then I saw this when I went through this book earlier," she pointed to a set of symbols in the middle of the page. "They're here, too."

I reached around her to grab the ancient Greek translation book and did my best to translate as quickly as I could, flipping pages back and forth, trying to see through my glazed over, bloodshot eyes. "This whole page is about something about generations and lineage," I commented, tilting my head and attempting the next line of text. "Lineage and family blood."

"With an Enochian symbol next to it?" Serra asked, doubtful.

I shrugged. "Do we know for sure that it's Enochian?"

Bill was nodding as he turned the Enochian translation notes that we had acquired around to face me. "Yeah," he muttered. "It's right here. It means 'those who walk on Earth'."

I couldn't tell if it was confusion from the text alone or from the fact that none of us had slept all night, but for the life of me, I couldn't put the pieces together in a way that made sense. "Why did your dad have that written?" I stared at my wife as she shook her head, bewildered. "What does the rest of that page say?"

Serra pulled her dad's journal close enough to read and she sighed. "I wish his writing was as neat as Grace's," she muttered. "It's really hard to make out. He's talking here about 'the angels that visit us' and other 'guardian angel' stuff, but he's not too specific."

"What's the date on it? Is he talking about Grace?" I leaned forward, trying to see the page that Serra was pointing to in the journal. "Maybe he's referring to Lucia."

The bedroom door opened behind us and Grace was wrapping a robe around herself as she moved silently into the living room, running a hand through her long blonde hair, and rubbing her face. "Did you guys ever go to bed?" she asked, her voice rough with sleep.

Serra ignored her as she shoved the journal towards Grace demandingly. "What does Dad mean here? All these notes on blood lines and family, with the Enochian symbol next to it?"

Grace took the journal, still blinking sleep from her eyes, and tried to focus on what Serra was saying. Slowly, Grace's eyes scanned the page in front of her and she shook her head. "This isn't Dad's journal," she answered quietly. "This is Grandpa's."

Serra stared at her sister with her mouth hanging open slightly. "No wonder I couldn't read the writing."

I sighed, beginning to get impatient with the lack of Browning sister focus. "But what does it mean?" I asked, pushing Grace for answers. "Bloodlines with angels? Enochian symbols? What's going on?"

Glancing back down at the pages, Grace flipped back towards the front of the leather journal, taking a deep breath. "I've never read any of this," she whispered, shaking her head and looking weary. "Bill? Have you seen this? Have you read any of this?"

We all turned to Bill as he sat silently at the dining room table. Slowly, he nodded sadly. "It came up once or twice when I was researching what to do when you hit maturity, angel."

"And?" Grace pressed. "What does all of this mean?"

Billy licked his lips and leaned forward on the table. "I never confirmed any of this with your father," he began. "He was always too worried about you finding out to talk about it. Communication was never his strong suit, especially when it came to his daughters."

Grace simply stared at him.

"My theory?" Bill asked, lifting his eyebrows.

"Any theory you've got, Bill. It's kinda all we have," Serra answered, pressing her lips together impatiently.

Bill took a deep breath, staring at the journal in Grace's hands. "Grace is not the only Browning to have angelic blood. She just happens to be the one with the _most_ of it."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Serra

"You wanna run that by me again?" I asked, leaning forward across the table.

Bill took a deep breath and almost rolled his eyes at my attitude. "Don't get your panties in a twist, little girl," he began, holding out his hand. "It's all just been conjecture until you started putting the pieces together. Now, with your newfound 'gift'," he used his fingers as air quotes and gestured to Sammy and me, "it makes a little bit more sense."

"What makes a little bit more sense?" Sam asked, leaning forward as well.

"The fact that she responds so quickly to your blood," Bill sighed. "You're a vessel, right?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows at Sammy. "From what I hear, a vessel to someone pretty damn important."

"And?" I asked, pressing harder.

Bill glanced back at me and Grace, and sighed, "Your mother had a touch of psychic abilities, your grandmother, your great-grandmother, and so on and so forth. The gene seems to travel in the female bloodlines, and when I brought it up to your father, he wanted nothing to do with the conversation, so I started the research on my own."

Grace was standing, still supporting the leather journal between her hands, staring at Billy with her blonde eyebrows knitted together, looking betrayed. "Were you ever going to mention this to any of us?"

"It never seemed important until now. Honestly," he shrugged as he stood to walk towards my sister, "I had forgotten about it until Serra found the Enochian in that journal."

Flicking her blue eyes to mine, she tilted her head and closed her eyes. "The lies this family told," she muttered, shaking her head. "Is that where the Warrior of Heaven line came from?"

"Most likely," Bill agreed. "They were probably all Warriors and just never knew it."

I turned to Grace and narrowed my eyes, "Mom's a Watcher," I whispered. "Not a Warrior."

"Yeah," she agreed, "now that she's dead. Maybe she was able to control the Stone when she was alive, she just never knew."

Dean came out of the bedroom, barefoot and shuffling across the hardwood floor. He came to a stop, rubbing his face and yawning as he lifted his eyebrows and asked, "What'd I miss?"

Taking a deep breath, Grace sighed heavily. "Billy says that the Browning women all have angel blood, I just have the most," she explained quietly. "It appears that my family has been full of liars from the beginning."

Shrugging, Dean turned towards the coffee maker and began the process for a fresh pot. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, irritated at the lack of interest from my brother-in-law. "I don't think you heard us right," I began, speaking directly at Dean, "we're all hybrids. Apparently Enochian should have been our second language."

From the counter, Dean turned slightly to be heard, "I heard you just fine," he sighed. "I'm just not surprised." He turned back to the coffee pot and walked towards the sink and filled the carafe with water. "After seeing you on video at the hospital, blowing windows and light bulbs, after seeing Grace or the girls do what they do? After seeing everything that we've seen…" Dean shrugged again, "How are any of you surprised?"

Tilting her head, Grace lifted her eyebrows, obviously agreeing with her husband. "He's right, you know," she commented. "The connection we've had with each other from the beginning was more than a sister bond."

I clicked my tongue, still trying to contain my excitement. "It's because this is old news to you," I began. "I've got angel blood, man!" I turned and smacked Billy across the shoulder in triumph. "You know how long I've been jealous that you've been the only one with abilities, Grace? Basically my whole life." I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. "It's nice to know that we've got a little more in common."

"Well," Grace shrugged, "how about we focus on that later. Weren't you looking for a spell to bring Cas and Lucia back?"

"Yeah," Billy breathed, holding an unfamiliar book open, close to his face. "Like this one."

Our angel lineage temporarily forgotten, I jumped in front of Bill, trying to see the title of the book he held. "What is that?" I asked, "Did you find the spell?"

Sammy moved closer to me, sending the familiar tingle of electricity down my shoulder as we touched. He smiled down at me as I tried to move so I could see the spell Billy was talking about.

"I've got an ancient spell here, talking about recalling specific 'cosmic creatures'," Billy explained. "It's in a dialect of Celtic I've never seen before. Translating it has been a bitch."

I took the translation book from the table and grabbed a pencil as Bill pointed to the inscription, handwritten in ink across the embellished pages. "What do you have so far?"

Bill pointed to the top of the yellow note pad, saying, "This right here," he took a deep breath and shook his head. "I think this," he referred to the spell once again, "is this, but I can't find that sign."

Simultaneously, we put our books on the table and began to translate. Somewhere along the line, Grace brought me a cup of coffee and sat down at the end of the table, buttering pieces of toast and cutting up oranges for when the kids got up. Dean emptied the dishwasher and put another load to run, milling around behind us.

I knew they were attempting to keep a sense of normalcy, but it was difficult for me to understand something as dull as housework when there was a witch to find and kill, angels to bring back, and most of all, my son and nephew to bring home.

…

Dean

Watching Serra work, I knew I would just be in the way if I tried helping, so I kept myself busy by doing the chores that never seemed to go away. I knew eventually (hopefully sooner, rather than later), I would be able to hit the door running, burn rubber, and hunt down the bitch that took my kids. Grace did the same, busying herself with mundane tasks as her sister worked. I had the feeling that my wife's thought process was a bit dulled as well, mainly from losing her grace. Normally, Grace was itching to be a part of the research and always had something interesting and helpful to say. Lately, she just wasn't the same. My chest ached, just thinking about it.

There was a steady snore coming from the couch and as I glanced over, I shook my head and chuckled to myself: sometime last night, Stuart had given up on consciousness and passed out on our couch. I wondered momentarily if his wife knew he was still here.

As I finished my thought, there was a buzz coming from the counter nearest the dining room table. Grace's phone was vibrating and lighting up as a call came through. We all looked at each other and I tossed it to Grace, seeing Santiago's name flash across the screen.

"Santi," Grace greeted, "you have some news?" She held the phone out to us and pressed the speaker button on the screen and Santiago's heavily accented voice came through the other side.

"We are outside a town called Strum, Wisconsin and there is some pretty heavy witchcraft going on here. Byron found out that there have been a couple of warehouses rented out by businesses that sound like fronts, especially for this part of the county. He's on his way over with a couple of the others to check it out," Santiago explained. "I'm camped out in front of an old church, though."

"A church? Why?" Grace asked, glancing up at me. I knew a scene from Holden flashed through her mind, when we saw Delilah through the stained glass window of the church on the main street of the town for the first time.

Santi clicked his tongue and sighed. "I have this feeling," he began. "I talked to one of the store clerks at a little mini mart down the way and he told me about a woman he'd never seen before going there 'to confess'. She has red hair."

Grace, Serra, Sam, and I stared at each other, our mouths falling open. "That's her," I whispered. "It's gotta be."

"She seems to be centering her activities at the church and coming and going as she pleases. I've watched for a couple of hours," Santiago continued, "and Diego has walked by once or twice, but there's no one else in there. It seems to me that a church in this small of a town would have more than one resident handing out during the day, especially on a Saturday afternoon."

Serra was pacing around the living room, gathering weapons and ammunition from all of our storage areas throughout the first floor, throwing them into a duffel bag. From across the room, she shouted, "Stay there, Santi." She hesitated and swallowed hard, staring at Grace. "Me and Sammy are on our way. Call us if there's any more movement or if the warehouses turn anything up."

"Will do," Santiago replied. With that, he was gone.

Grace was already shaking her head at Serra, "Wait, wait, wait," she sighed, holding out her hands. "This seems too easy. It's like they're just waiting for you."

"And what if they are?" Serra asked, tilting her head in annoyance. "We take them all out and get the boys back." She paused, loading her twin, silver on black Colt forty-fives into the shoulder holsters she slung over her back. Covering them with a flannel and a denim jacket, Serra took a deep breath. "This is the break we have been waiting for," she continued. "I'll juice up on the way north, me and Sammy will meet Santi and the cousins and take them out. You stay here with the kids and stay safe, especially without your grace. Tulley and Fred will be here too. They'll protect you."

"What about me?" I asked, finally stepping forward. "You don't seem to be including me in any of this."

"You're coming with us," Serra answered, annoyed. " _As if_ I'm leaving you behind. You're almost as good of a shot as I am."

"So my entire family is going off without me," Grace reiterated. "Great, this sounds like a fucking great plan."

Serra tilted her head and rolled her eyes. "No offense, Grace, but you're kinda useless right now. Besides, we just found that spell. You, Billy, Tulley, Fred, and Seeder need to get the shit to get that spell to work. You figure that out and you can join us with the angels." Serra paused and pressed her lips together. "Just make sure you bring The Judge and the angel rounds I left in your room." She made a face, almost apologetic. "And maybe the Winchester long rifle. Let's keep you out of the fight."

"Fuck you, Serra."

Serra blew a kiss to her sister and smiled ironically, "Love you back," she replied. Turning, she pulled Sammy into movement and he sighed as I followed them to the middle of the kitchen.

I turned towards my wife and took a deep breath, hating that I was completely agreeing with Serra. "She's right, you know," I whispered. "Come when you can. We'll keep you posted."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Grace

I had never wanted to be a Nephilim. I never even wanted to be a psychic. But at this moment in my life, I couldn't begin to tell you how much I missed being both.

I felt cut off from the entire world; deaf, blind, and too weak to do much of anything. I watched Bill, Tulley, and Fred work around me, gathering supplies they would need in order to bring the angels back. Seeder practiced the words over and over, his thick New Orleans accent getting in the way of the ancient Celtic pronunciations. Billy had to get involved more than once, and finally took the book from Seeder, insisting that he would take care of the words himself. Seeder returned to the corner of the living room, looking haughty and annoyed.

I sat on the floor among my children and tried my best to be as involved in their games as I could, but found myself being pulled back into the conversation happening at the table again and again.

Finally, Liberty glanced at me and nodded towards Billy and Donna, who were standing at the corner of the farm table. "It's okay, Momma. Go over there and help."

I smiled weakly at my eldest daughter. "No, baby," I whispered. "I won't be able to do much anyway. I'm just not on my game."

"You just need your grace back," Libby answered, leaning her head on my arm. "Then you'll be fine. Uncle Cas will help when he gets back."

I nodded, smiling lightly at my girls. Glory watched earnestly and I sighed, thinking how lucky I was to have daughters that were so incredibly resilient. Nothing seemed to faze them and they were constantly reassuring to each other when changes were hard to handle. Dean and I both had no idea what we had done right, but we hoped we could keep it going.

"Alright," I heard Billy declare. "I think we're ready to try. The ingredients list isn't long and I have most of it in my truck." Bill moved away from the table, enough to make eye contact with me. "You could probably fill in what's missing, right?"

I nodded from my spot on the rug. "Most likely. There's an old cabinet down in the basement with a lot of ingredients. It's next to Jody's old bed."

Donna nodded and headed towards the entrance of the basement. I glanced at the angels, still standing stoic next to Sabina and sighed heavily. Maybe, just maybe, we were getting close.

…

Serra

I didn't like leaving Grace behind, no matter how confident I sounded. For only the second time in my life, I was headed into a fight without knowing my big sister could come to back me up if I needed her to. She was benched until we could get her grace back, and it wasn't sitting well with me.

Glancing at Sammy, I took a deep breath, gritting my teeth as I threw things into my duffel. "I'll drive," I began, not looking my husband in the face. "I'm gonna milk you for blood for the first hour or so on our way."

"An hour?" Sam repeated, glancing up at me. "That seems excessive."

"I have a feeling you'll be able to take it," I muttered, mostly to myself. "I need as much as I can so I can reload as necessary. I don't want to be without when we're finally up against Delilah."

"Serra," Sam started, sighing quietly. "We might not even find her. You have to be prepared for that."

I shook my head, refusing to meet his gaze. "No," I grumbled. "I refuse to believe that. She has our kid," I ran out of breath suddenly, trying to hold my emotions together. I didn't want to break, not now. Not when we were so close.

Sam moved closer, reaching for my shoulders. Automatically throwing my walls up around myself, I pulled away from his touch, shaking my head. "Serra," he tried again. "We will find Lee. We'll find him and we'll bring him home. I know we will, but this is our first attempt. Things might not go as smoothly as we want them to."

Still shaking my head, hot, angry tears spilled down my cheeks and I forcibly zipped my duffel bag closed. "Hurry up," I muttered, ignoring Sam's comments. "Dean's already outside and I want to get out of here."

…

Grace

Billy and Seeder carried supplies up the steps of the basement, getting ready for our first attempt at the spell that would hopefully bring Castiel and Lucia back to us. I stared out the kitchen window, watching Dean help Serra and Sam load things into the Wagoneer so they could get on the road. Our goodbye had been brief; the rage-fueled look in Dean's eyes was still fresh in my memory.

"I don't like separating," I whispered, reaching around Dean's broad shoulders to hug him goodbye.

Dean's voice was quiet in my ear, "I know," he began. "I don't like it either, but you know it's what we need to do."

I swallowed hard, nodding mostly to myself. "What if you find him and I'm not there? What will he say if I'm not there behind you?"

"It doesn't make you a bad mother," Dean answered, pulling away slightly. "We all have our jobs to do."

I nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Once the angels are out, we're all right behind you."

"I know you are," Dean pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show. "I love you, Gracie."

Smiling wistfully, wiping the tears from my face, I nodded. "I know you do. I love you too."

Dean crouched next to each of our children in turn and bid them goodbye, each of them getting a hug and a kiss on the forehead. With that, he was gone.

Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes and stared at the arm chair I leaned on. There was a feeling, deep in my gut, that this entire scene was about to play out in the worst way possible and I had no idea how to stop it from happening. I gasped, trying to keep control of my too close to the surface emotions, and once again, wiped my face, forcing myself back into the game.

Watching me carefully from across the room, Tulley lifted his bushy gray eyebrows as me, once I finally looked up. "You are stronger than you are thinking, Grace Browning," he commented. "I am looking forward to the fight we will be having soon."

"I know you are, Tulley," I chuckled. "I hope it doesn't disappoint."

Stuart was sitting at the edge of the couch, watching everyone from his vantage point. "I gotta say, I'm kinda looking forward to anything that's coming," he muttered. "It's like watchin' TV, but you're all real."

"Okay," Billy sighed, ignoring Stu and laying out the ingredients on my farm table. "We're as ready as we're gonna be. Let's get going."

Walking over towards Cas, I knew I wouldn't need to be a part of the spell in order for it to work, so, standing in front of the angel, I took a deep breath and stared into his blank face. It was as if time had been frozen. Cas' face and body was in the same exact position as it had been from the beginning; his beard hadn't even grown in at all. I glanced down at Sabina, still with her head leaned back against the cushion of the loveseat, with her eyes closed. Her body was much the same way: for the last few weeks, she hadn't moved or shown signs of any part of her body changing.

Narrowing my eyes, it occurred to me for the first time that as a witch, as a _human_ , Sabina's body should have gone through some kind of change while being trapped with the angels inside her mind. She should have lost weight…she should have been almost starving to death without being hooked up to a saline drip to keep her alive. If she was in a coma, she would have been hooked up to a catheter.

Slowly, my mouth dropped open, realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"She's an angel too," I whispered.

Bill looked up towards the sound of my voice and tilted his head. "What was that, angel?" he asked, still readying for the spell.

"Sabina," I answered, pointing to the girl on my loveseat. "She's an angel too, otherwise, she'd be dead. The angels have been in her subconscious longer than a human body could take without showing some damage." The longer I stood with my mouth open, the more plausible the possibility seemed. "We theorized that Delilah was an angel, just pretending to be a witch to hide herself from us and Cas…" I was shaking my head; pieces of the puzzle were flying together faster than I was ready for. "She was a plant. Delilah used her as a plant to get us to Holden. It's why we couldn't find the rest of her family." I glanced up at Billy and his mouth was slowly dropping open in much the same way mine had. "Serra hated her from the beginning because she just has that sense about her. She could _tell_ she wasn't legit."

"That is leaping," Tulley muttered, shaking his head slowly. "How could she be angel without Winchesters knowing?"

I thought momentarily, considering Tulley's question. "Delilah knows more about spells and cosmic abilities than me or Cas or Lucia because we're not the bad guys. She's been dabbling for who knows how many millennia with demons or whatever…she's picked up some things. I'll bet she's been using Sabina for longer than we could ever fathom." I held out my hands, gesturing to the girl on my couch. "Look at her! She still looks exactly the same as she did when she got here! Nothing's changed! She hasn't eaten in over three weeks!"

Raising my eyebrows passed my hairline, I continued, "She should be starving to death! I should have had to clean up her mess all over my couch! But no! She just stopped! Her body just _froze!_ "

Slowly, Bill began to nod, seeing exactly what I was seeing. "Well," he sighed. "Let's get your angels out and we'll have them deal with her."

Tulley took a deep breath, glancing at Fred, "We are signing up for more than I was thinking," he muttered. Fred simply nodded, still staring at the piles of ingredients on my table.

From the corner of the room, Seeder and Billy began repeating the ancient Celtic incantations that they had been practicing. One ingredient at a time was thrown into the ironwood box that sat in the middle of a sigil, drawn on one of the kids' art posters in the middle of the farm table. Each ingredient that was added brought another lazy stream of smoke from the middle of the box, all different variations of purple and gray.

Once into a rhythm, more voices joined the chorus in ancient Celtic. Tulley and Fred began as well, following along carefully. Tulley even fought his heavy Russian accent in order to be as authentic as possible. Finally, Jody, Donna, and even Stuart joined in the incantations, filling our living room with sound, each saying the spell at a different speed, as the instructions had described.

Bill stepped towards the ironwood box and tossed in the final ingredient and suddenly, the room filled with the brightest white light I had ever experienced without having produced it myself. Everyone standing at the table covered their faces, attempting to block the light, but I was still unfazed, staring into Castiel's face. At least one part of my angelic nature had clung to me.

"Come on, Cas," I whispered. "Come back to me."

The voices continued relentlessly, filling our living room with the echo of the ancient spell. It didn't seem possible, but the light seemed to get brighter, finally so bright that I was forced to bring my hand up to block some of it. I tried to stare _through_ the light, as Castiel had instructed, not so long ago, but it was finally too much for my human, grace-lacking senses.

Suddenly, there was a hum that filled the space, so loud that the Celtic spell suddenly stopped as the humans surrounding my farm table ducked and covered their ears. I knew the sound well and I couldn't help the smile that spread broadly across my face.

It was the sound of an angel's true voice.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Castiel

The forest that had surrounded us for who knows how long was beginning to fade and disappear. I glanced at Lucia, furrowing my eyebrows, feeling just as confused as the Seraph looked. I glanced down at the forest floor below my feet and allowed myself a small smile. It would appear that we were finally being called back. Somehow, someone on the Winchester side had finally been successful.

Quickly reaching out to Lucia, we clasped hands and closed our eyes, ready for our journey together, back to the other side. There was a blinding flash of light and the feeling that we were being sucked through a straw. The next thing I knew, Grace was kneeling next to me as I lay on the floor in the Winchester's living room, grinning stupidly with tears in her eyes and her hands over her ears.

"Holy shit, it's good to see your face," she whispered, pulling me towards her, forcing me into a hug. Closing my eyes, I took my first deep breath in three weeks, taking in Grace's familiar scent.

From my position on the floor, I nodded, using one arm to support my weight and the other to wrap around Grace's shoulders. "I agree with the sentiment completely," I whispered. "Thank you."

She pulled away as she helped me to my feet, still smiling. "Don't thank me," she answered, gesturing to the crowd in her living room. "Thank the hunters that came to our rescue." Turning towards Lucia, Grace wrapped her arms around the Seraph as well. "I am so happy you two are safe."

Lucia returned the hug awkwardly and nodded slowly. As she pulled away from Grace, she tilted her head, considering her for the first time. "You are not, however," Lucia whispered, staring into Grace's deep blue eyes. "You are not well at all."

Sighing heavily, Grace shrugged. "I know," she answered. "We'll get to that in a bit." She turned towards Sabina, still looking dazed as she slowly woke up in her place on the loveseat. "For now," Grace continued, "I want to make sure we keep track of this one." Turning and pursing her lips, Grace tilted her head. "I've got money on her being an angel."

Staring at Grace, I took a deep breath and glanced at Lucia, nodding slowly. "As much as I want to be, I am not surprised by your theory. I don't feel that her memories were legitimate, but I also feel that she might be an angel that has lost most of her grace."

Grace sighed heavily. "I know the feeling," she agreed, glancing towards Lucia, then back at me. "It seems that could be Delilah's signature."

Emery stepped forward, tilting her head as she was lost her in thought. "Maybe her signature, yeah," she began, "but what if it's more than that? What if she takes other angelics' grace and uses it for her own gain?"

"Is that possible?" Grace asked, looking at me, then to Bill Griffin as he approached, reaching out to shake my hand.

I smiled at Billy as I took his hand in both of mine. "Hello, Bill," I greeted, nodding my thanks. "At this point, Grace," I sighed, "it seems that anything is possible."

…

Grace

We brought Cas and Lucia up to speed on everything that had happened in the last few weeks the best that we could while preparing for our trip to catch up with everyone else on the road. After deciding that Sabina was too dangerous as an unknown angel, we decided to keep her locked up, surrounded by holy flame out in the barn, decorated with sigils, contained with Enochian engraved chains. She maintained that she had no idea what we were talking about, but I knew, deep in the pit of my stomach that Delilah had successfully taken her grace, just as she had done to me, and planted false memories deep into her mind. Castiel listened patiently to my theory and agreed wholeheartedly with me once I had explained the entire story.

Emery, Jody, Fred, and Donna had elected to stay behind and care for four of the Winchester kids and I would never know how to repay them for keeping them safe while we were gone. Tulley and Bill would be riding with us up to Wisconsin to fight the battle to save my family.

As soon as Cas and Lucia were awake, Seeder disappeared, leaving no trace of where he had gone or if he would be back. I didn't miss him.

Tulley was almost as eager as me to get on the road, but Castiel and Lucia seemed to have other plans. Cas approached me as I loaded Weapons' Stone rounds into The Judge, "We're wasting time, driving with the others up to Wisconsin. You and I know very well that we could simply go ahead on our own and meet Dean, Sam, and Serendipity where they are."

I turned to lift my eyebrows at Cas, "You sure that's safe?" I asked. "Separating like that? I'm not on my game, Cas. I feel like you'd just be babysitting me." I gestured towards the table of hunters with The Judge. "At least if we're all together, they can share the load of keeping my ass alive."

Castiel pressed his lips together, looking very disappointed. "You are not someone I have to babysit. You are very capable, even without your grace." Cas moved closer to me, lowering his voice, "You and I both know that once we get your grace back, you, as a mother, will be Delilah's biggest threat besides Serendipity. We need to get there as soon as possible to find your son and nephew."

The resolve in Cas' eyes was hard to ignore. It constantly floored me that people had as much faith in me as Dean, Serra, and Cas did. For that I was eternally grateful.

Slowly, I swallowed and nodded, putting the fully loaded Judge in the waistband of my jeans. "Okay," I answered, finally agreeing. "We bamf to Strum, meet up with Serra and the boys, and we kick some ass."

Emery turned and smiled at me and Castiel, with Lucia looking on. "It's about time I heard you talk like a Browning."

"Sorry, Em," I smiled softly. "But I'm a Winchester."

…

Grace

The early evening was eerily silent as I opened my eyes to take in my new surroundings. I adjusted the Winchester long rifle against my back and pulled the heavy bag of ammunition to my right hip. The Judge was still cold against my back, reassuring me as I fell into step with Cas and Lucia.

"Do we have a plan?" I asked, whispering to Castiel as we headed towards a red brick church on the main road into town. "Or are we just going to be making this up as we go?"

"I want to meet up with your sister, Dean, and Sam first. We need to go in together, or we might as well not go at all."

Nodding, I agreed silently. I glanced at my phone and knew that we were probably ahead of them by about an hour or so, which would upset my sister. I chuckled at the idea of her learning how to 'travel cross-dimensionally' out of sheer will, while hopped up on Sammy's blood.

"We will find a safe place to stay while we wait for the others," Cas continued. "You said something about the other hunters being here as well. Who are they?"

I nodded as we crossed the tiny cemetery grounds behind the church. "Yeah, Santi and his family are here and watching the church," I pointed to the truck that was parked down the main street, "I'm pretty sure that's him." As we headed towards the alley between the grocery and video store across the street from the church, I pulled out my phone and dialed Santiago's number.

"You're not being invisible enough," came his soft voice through the speaker. "Arriving in the daylight and walking across the yard behind the church? You're getting sloppy, Grace Winchester."

I clicked my tongue and rolled my eyes, "I wasn't in charge of where the angels dumped me," I replied, not able to hold the smile that tugged at my lips, now that we were hopefully in the same town as my son. "We're out of immediate visibility now, so can it." I glanced at Cas and shook my head. "See anything new?"

"Nothing since this morning," he replied, whispering. "Rosa and Carlo went to the warehouse with the other hunters to see if they could help. I've been here by myself for about four hours."

"Okay," I answered, turning back towards the angels. "We're going to meet up with Serra and the boys and then go after the witches for some answers. See if they know where Delilah is holding the kids."

Cas touched my shoulder as he closed his eyes. "Serra is pulling into a gas station about forty minutes from here. Do you want to meet her there?"

"Yeah," I answered Cas. Turning back to Santiago, I relayed the plan. "We're jumping again, straight to my sister. I'll keep you posted."

"I will be here."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Serra

"Hit me," I muttered to Sam, who was adjusting the cooler in the back of the Shaggin' Wagon, filled with the vials of his blood, standing in the parking lot of a gas station out in the middle of nowhere.

Sam turned towards me, narrowing his eyes. "We're still forty minutes out, at least, Sere," he answered quietly. "Aren't you going to burn it off before we get there?"

Stepping from one foot to the other in rapid succession, I looked like I was almost jogging in place. "I don't know, Sammy, but we have a lot of it. I feel like if I don't have a loading dose, I'm not going to be as tuned up as I could be."

He licked his lips and shook his head. "Save it, Serra," he replied. "You're a juggernaut on your own. You don't need to go in like the Hulk right away, especially since we don't even know where everyone is."

"Using fictional characters to describe me doesn't bode well for your safety," I muttered, still amped up.

Dean approached from behind us and I turned, glaring at my brother-in-law out of sheer irritation of my husband. "Whoa," Dean held up his hands, palm out at me. "Chill, Serra. What's the problem?"

"Sam says I should wait on the blood."

Looking from his brother back to me, Dean shrugged. "Well, Luck, he's not wrong. We don't know where the kids are, we're heading to a town that we don't know filled with witches that want to kill us. We know less about this than we did about Holden."

"All the more reason to be charged and ready to go," I argued. "Maybe if I'm on the blood, I'll be able to hear Lee and Everett, like Grace can."

"And maybe you burn it all off before you're useful to anyone," a voice came from behind all of us that made me jump about three feet into the air. I whipped around, drawing one of my guns, along with Sam and Dean, and aimed it right into my sister's face.

Gasping for air, I squeezed my eyes closed when I saw the look on her face. She was grinning at me, knowing that she had caught all of us off guard. "How the hell did you get here?" I ranted, closing one of the Wagon's doors to see her completely.

Just then, Castiel stepped out from behind the gas pump that we had been using. "Hello, Serendipity," his voice was calm and soothing, just as I remembered it being.

Shoving my gun back into my shoulder holster, I leaped at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, Sam and Dean right behind me. "Oh my God, Cas," I laughed. "You're alive!" The boys hugged Cas right along with me, pushing me into Cas' chest and being squished as they embraced. "Whoa," I called from somewhere in the middle. "Warrior can't breathe!"

The boys let go and backed away from Castiel, grinning stupidly at him. "Holy shit, it's good to see your face," Dean exclaimed, but then hugged his wife, almost just realizing that she was there. "How did you guys get here? The spell worked, I guess?"

Grace waved his questions off, gesturing vaguely in the air. "Yeah, it worked, we bamfed here, and we'll regale the amazing plight after we find the kids."

"We're headed to Strum," Sam began, but Grace cut him off, shaking her head.

"No," she said, her voice firmer than I was used to, "we're heading to the warehouse in Eau Claire. Santi is camped out in front of the church in Strum, where he said people saw the redhead. We were just there. My money is on the warehouse. We don't have eyes on it yet, and we're closer to it than Strum."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look, both lifting their eyebrows and shrugging at each other. "Alright," Sam agreed. "Let's get moving."

…

Grace

Serra was practically vibrating by the time we got there; parking in a shopping center lot away from the warehouse itself. We jogged to the backside of the warehouse, only slightly out of breath, and glanced at each other, waiting on making the first move.

"Do you see any of the other hunters?" Dean whispered, leaning close. "We should really keep them in the loop."

Sam nodded behind me, "If nothing else, just to make sure we don't get shot."

Pulling out my phone, I dialed Paul's phone number and turned the volume down. He answered almost immediately. "What?" he whispered. "I thought we agreed that we'd call you if we saw anything. You're gonna blow our cover."

"We're here," I answered, whispering in return. "How close are you?"

Paul hesitated, probably exchanging looks with the other hunters. "We're in the coffee shop across from the warehouse, trying not to get blown, but," he sighed and shook his head. "I just gotta bad feeling about this whole thing."

I turned to the other members of my family and nodded, "Yeah," I agreed. "Me too, but we're going in. What have you seen?"

Paul must have lowered his phone to put it on speaker phone for the rest of the group. The bustle of the coffee shop was all around them, and I did my best to filter out the extra noise. "Not much," he began, sighing heavily, "but there are a bunch of women around here. They could be witches, they could be coeds. It's really a toss-up."

"Have you seen Delilah?" I asked, eyeing my husband.

"No," Paul answered. "She still seems to be working behind the scenes. There was a woman a few hours ago bringing grocery bags down the alley behind the warehouse, but that was about it. I'm getting tired of ordering coffee."

Serra turned to me and shrugged. "At least they're feeding them?" she commented as she bounced up and down, adrenaline obviously still raging in her blood stream.

"Okay," I sighed. "We're going in. If you hear shots fired or whatever, either back us up or get the hell out of here."

"You're giving us a choice?" Peter added, the tone of his voice tight.

I nodded towards my phone, "You got us here," I answered. "You did your part. We're about to get some blood on our hands, so if you want an exit, this is your chance."

There was only the bustle of the coffee shop from the other end of the phone while the boys worked out the details by silently exchanging looks. Finally, Paul sighed. "I'm not going anywhere, Grace," he answered. "You need me, I'll be here, waiting."

"Yeah," Peter added. "Me too."

Byron shrugged and smiled, "I still love Serendipity, so I'll be here."

Serra rolled her eyes and shook her head, but stayed quiet.

"We'll be here if you need us," Paul reiterated. "Be careful."

…

Levi sat in the dark of his cell, getting weaker as time passed. It seemed like he had been there a lifetime and the hours stretched longer and longer, especially now that he wasn't eating. His stockpile had finally run out and things were getting a little desperate.

There was movement outside of his cell door and Levi strained to listen. The witches were talking amongst themselves, obviously stirred up from something.

"They're in the coffee shop across the street from the warehouse," one of them said. "Delilah has others there, but we're not sure how quickly she wants to act."

"The Winchesters are coming for the children," another voice chimed in. "Along with the other hunters, we will end up outnumbered." She seemed incredibly nervous. "Delilah will not be pleased that there are so many other players…she will murder us all."

"She had to have anticipated that the Winchesters would bring reinforcements," the first voice added. "And they managed to get the angels back…things are not going well."

There was a long paused as the women considered these thoughts outside of Levi's door. Finally the first voice sighed heavily and whispered, "Either way, many of us will die today."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Delilah

To say things were not going according to my extensively laid out plans was an understatement. I knew Crowley's need to preserve his way of life was strong, so I should have anticipated that he would abandon our plans and seek to keep himself safe, above all.

Men could never be trusted.

Touching the heavy necklace that lay across my chest, I turned the vial of glowing blue liquid over and over in my fingertips, considering the power I held, but had no ability to use. Yet another thing I hadn't anticipated was not being able to duplicate the same spell as I had with Sabina's grace hundreds of years ago, or the other angels I consumed before her…being a Nephilim apparently changed the potion, making consuming the half-breed's power impossible.

I was irritated and my thinking wasn't as clear as it should have been.

Without thinking about it, sparks flew from my free hand, igniting the useless spell book in front of me. I watched it burn, wondering how I would complete my plan without the power from the Gatekeeper's mother. Gaining control of the boy's ability to access Hell's Gate was all I could think about. Once I had control of Hell, the others would fall like dominoes, but it all weighed on me being able to absorb the Nephilim's grace. It's what I wanted more than anything in the entire comprehensible universe. It would put me in charge, where I should be, higher than any other cosmic being that existed. I could have it all.

Dropping the vial against my chest, I sighed heavily, leaning forward in my chair and rubbing my face. At this point I didn't even care if I smeared my eyeliner. Nothing else mattered.

"Sasha!" I screamed, slamming my hand on the table in front of me.

Without hesitation, the door of my quarters slammed open and Sasha stood in front of me silently, waiting eagerly for directions.

"The Winchesters are here to collect their sons," I commented.

She nodded somberly, staring at her satin stilettos.

I tapped the table with my fingernails, watching the flames lick the spell book as it continued to burn, though no visible damage was appearing. "And the other hunters that have been observing us?" I asked, lifting my eyebrows questioningly. "What of them?"

Sasha stepped closer, lowering her voice as she answered, "They are still at the coffee shop across the street. Simone and Matilda are there, waiting for orders."

"How many?"

"We count four."

I flicked my eyes towards the witch in front of me. Yes, she had been more useful than her sisters, but I still had little patience for her. "You count incorrectly," I sighed, toying with the flames in front of me. "There are two more. I can feel them in the town."

Sasha was surprised at this information. "Where, Delilah? Tell me and they will no longer be a problem."

"They are marked," I answered, shaking my head and sighing again. "They are hidden from me. I simply know that they are there. Find them and destroy them."

"And what of the men in the coffee shop?"

Without raising my eyes to the witch in front of me, I answered, "Make it long and painful."

Remaining silent, Sasha nodded once to me and backed away, her heels clicking lightly on the wooden floor. With a wave of my fingers, the fire surrounding the spell book on the table in front of me extinguished and once again, I was shrouded in darkness. The only light came from the soft blue glow of the Nephilim's grace, still hanging in a vial around my neck.

…

Dean

Grace was gassing, hard. We made our way up the alley behind the warehouse and her breathing was harder than I knew it should be. Pausing to glance back at her, she nodded that she was fine, but I wasn't stupid. My wife was struggling to keep up and I knew there wasn't shit I could do about it.

Throwing a glance at Cas, he nodded, knowing already what I was thinking. _Keep her alive,_ I thought, holding his gaze. _If it's the one thing you do today, keep her and the kids alive._

Castiel took a steeling breath and nodded once. _I will do what I need to,_ I heard his answer.

From behind me, I could hear Serra and Sam digging through the back pack that Sammy wore. "How many should I load with?" Serra whispered. "I need a loading dose."

"Start with two and add another when you get weaker," Sammy answered. "I don't want you to…" Sam hesitated, making a face.

"What, OD on your blood?" Serra asked, lifting her eyebrows. "Not going to happen. We tested four, remember?"

"Yeah," Sam answered. "But that was a controlled setting in the barn."

Serra wasn't listening any more. She was already uncapping two injectors and slamming them into her legs, right through her jeans. Grace watched carefully, waiting for any change in her sister's immediate appearance.

When nothing happened, she asked, "How fast do you feel it?"

"It happens faster every time. It's like it hangs out a little bit more, too," Serra answered, closing her eyes as her body shook, almost like she had the chills. "Okay, let's go."

As we turned to make our way down the rest of the alley towards the back entrance of the warehouse, there was an earth-shaking explosion, followed by the telltale sound of fire, engulfing a structure. Whipping around, we turned in unison towards the other end of the alley, close to where the coffee house had been.

Serra was the first to pull herself into action, guns drawn, as she bolted down the asphalt. We followed blindly, running full tilt towards the other end of the street. Screeching to a stop, I felt my mouth drop open, watching the fire catch to the surrounding buildings. A few people had already gathered, attempting to pull the doors open to allow people to escape to safety, but they seemed sealed shut.

The witches knew we were here.

Serra tore off across the street, not hesitating to try and help, but Grace was locked in place, her hands over her mouth and tears at the brim of her eyes. Castiel was holding out his hands, attempting to stunt the fire or put it out entirely, but when he turned to me and shook his head, I knew it was no normal fire. It would go out when the job was done.

Four hunters down.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Everett

After my last tantrum, Delilah had demanded that I was tied down in the middle of a symbol that I didn't recognize. My hands and feet were tied to a table and I had a piece of Daddy's shop tape across my mouth. The ringing in my ears hadn't stopped since I lost control and the angry buzzing in the back of my mind told me that the symbol on the floor wasn't really working.

From where I lay, I could see a pebble on the floor, almost perfectly round. I wanted so badly to pick it up and inspect it, but from where I was, I couldn't do anything. But then, without really thinking about it, the little round pebble began to roll towards me, leaving a trail in the dirt behind it.

I could feel my eyes get big and I took a breath in surprise, making myself cough because my nose was plugged. _I could make the pebble move._

Refocusing, just like Momma had told me to, I stared at the pebble again and wanted it closer to me. I wanted it to come right to my hand. Slowly, the pebble started to roll towards me again, this time faster than before. It rolled right up the leg of the table as if gravity didn't exist and slowly, found its way into my hand. I smiled.

There was shouting from outside my cell and I tried to hear what the women were saying, but I couldn't really make out any of the words. They sounded upset. Mad. Worried.

It was the first time that I had heard the women sound like that since I had been here and I couldn't come up with any other ideas why they would be doing what they were doing unless something bad was happening to them. Like someone was coming. Or that someone was already here.

Like my family.

I turned my head to try and listen more, thinking about how mad my aunt and my dad could make someone and I couldn't help grinning from under the shop tape. Maybe, finally, they had found me.

Suddenly, my cell door slammed open and Delilah came striding in, golden red curls swaying back and forth as she walked straight to my table. She stayed to the outside of the circle of the symbol on the floor, but she lowered her face to my level, snarling slightly under her breath as she reached across the table and ripped the tape off my mouth. I closed my fist hard around the pebble in my hand and I took a deep breath, trying to control what I could of my anger as tears of pain shot to my eyes.

She stared at me and I stared right back. There was nothing more she could do to me without coming into the sigil on the floor, and something told me that once she stepped over its boundary, she would be stuck here, just like me.

"What's the matter?" I whispered, still smiling. "Are things going bad?"

She wanted to hit me, I knew she did. Somehow, she pulled herself together and stood to her full height, turning physically away from me. "I will admit, Everett, that things are not going according to plan, but I'll get them to turn around."

I simply blinked at her.

"There are four hunters on fire in the coffee shop across the street and there's nothing that your family can do about it." Delilah turned back to me, putting her hands on her hips and tapping the toe of her boot in the dirt, right next to the path of my pebble. She was frayed and on edge. She had no idea what to do next.

We were winning.

"Considering that your cousin is close to death, I won't bother with him," she continued, stepping around the sigil on the floor. "But you," she sighed. "You are going to need to stay quiet. We're moving you away from this place before your parents have a chance to discover you here. I'm getting rather fond of you."

I hadn't heard much of what Delilah said after she had told me that Levi was close to dying. "What did you do to Lee?" I asked, the fire in the pit of my belly beginning to ignite.

" _Lee_?" she asked, her voice sickly sweet, making fun of me again. " _Lee_ refuses to help me, so he's starving to death." Delilah pressed her lips together into a fine line and she tilted her head, "Since I don't seem to need to feed you, I've had to resort to other methods." She splayed her hands, demonstrating the sigil and table, holding me in place. "When the witches come in to transport you to your new location, you will be docile and cooperative, or so be it, I will take your cousin apart a piece at a time and then set him on fire."

I stared at her, the flames in my chest rising. "You leave him alone," I whispered.

Delilah stepped away from me and raised her hands, closed her eyes, and began chanting something in a language I didn't understand. It felt as if I was suffocating, my throat closing and blackness threatening at the edge of my vision. I lost focus on the anger in my chest, just trying to breathe, and before I knew what was happening, my hands went limp as I began to pass out. The pebble I clutched in my hand fell to the dirt floor with a thud as I passed out.

"Take him to the second location," Delilah commanded as the boy closed his eyes and went limp. "Get the other one, keep them separate, and for the love of all that is holy, keep. Him. _Asleep_."

The surrounding witches nodded in unison as they moved forward to untie Everett Winchester. The other women were already in the hall, carrying an unconscious Levi towards the panel truck in the back of the warehouse. As long as they stayed ahead of the Winchesters, she might be able to hold onto the rest of her plans.

…

Serra

 _Mother fucking shit,_ I kept repeating to myself as we stood watching the coffee house burn. There was going to be a big body count by the time we were done with this town. My thoughts turned to Byron and his friends and knowing that there was nothing I could do to save them…if I wasn't so pissed off, I would be devastated.

"This is a distraction," I finally said aloud. "We have them on the ropes. They're close."

Sammy turned to me and took a ragged breath. "They must be," he agreed, turning back towards the warehouse. "How do you guys feel about splitting up?"

Dean licked his lips and shrugged. "I dunno," he answered, running a hand through his hair. "This…this is all bat shit. We don't know how many we're dealing with, we don't know where they are, and we don't know what they're really capable of." Grace turned to stare at her husband as he continued, "If she's lighting shit on fire just to distract us, then yeah, we're probably onto something, but splitting up doesn't seem like the smartest thing we've ever done."

Grace turned abruptly away from Dean, catching movement in her peripheral vision. "There," she whispered, pointing to the other side of the street as a bigger crowd gathered, attempting to control the blaze. "That woman."

"What woman?" I asked, moving next to my sister.

"I saw her in Holden," Grace answered.

I was already moving closer to the crowd, "Let's go introduce ourselves."

…

Sam

For the first time in my life, I was all in favor of tying this woman to a chair and interrogating her myself, but Serra was already doing everything in her power to make the pain stick. She was amped up on my blood, ready to take on anything and everything that moved.

When Grace noticed the witch across the street, Serra jumped into action before we really had a chance to process what we were going to do with her. We had gotten control of the situation pretty quickly and Cas wasted no time in finding an abandoned storefront where we dragged her and tied her to an old chair. Serra was now inches from the woman's face, hurling one question after another at her.

"You work for her?" Serra asked, tilting her head.

The witch said nothing, breaking eye contact and turning away from Serra.

Taking a deep breath, Serra clenched her teeth and strode to her sister, gesturing at the woman in the chair. "You're positive she's a witch?"

Grace nodded and quietly added, "One hundred percent."

I turned to Cas and raised my eyebrows. He nodded in agreement. "She has secrets, but she seems to be blocked from me," he continued. "I cannot hear her."

Serra turned back towards the witch and pushed up the sleeves of her shirt, looking for symbols or sigils that could be blocking Cas' ability to hear the woman's thoughts.

For the first time, the witch smiled and tilted her head. "They're no where you can see," she whispered. "Delilah protects us. We cannot be broken."

Grace stepped closer to the woman in the chair, but Dean held up his hand, stopping her mid-step. "Alright, I've got a question for you," Dean took a deep breath and moved closer to the woman, bending to get eye level with her. "Do you know of a force stronger than a mother trying to protect her children?"

This question seemed to throw the woman off. For the first time, the annoyed look of anger faltered, and she narrowed her eyes.

"The only reason I ask is because I know the answer, and I wanted to see if you're as smart as you think you are." Dean waited patiently, his hand resting on the butt of his pearl handled Colt forty-five that was sticking out of the waistband of his jeans. "No?"

The witch remained silent as both Serra and Grace stepped forward.

" _Two_ mothers trying to protect their children," Dean finished, gesturing to his wife and mine. "And I can tell you that I can be pretty terrifying and so can my brother here, but," he clicked his tongue, leaning against the counter behind him. "I'll tell you what; these two? They're both mothers. Your boss has two of their kids." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and lifted his eyebrows. "And neither one of _us_ ," he gestured between us again, "are going to stop _them_ from peeling the skin from your body."

Grace and Serra were closer now, both holding a Weapons' Stone blade in front of the woman's face. "Let's start over," Dean continued. "Maybe you'll live through this."

"If you don't kill me," the woman spit, "Delilah will for betraying her."

"Let's see if your will to live is stronger than your drive to please," Serra whispered, lowering the blade to the woman's arm and dragging it up towards her elbow slowly. Immediately, a clean, deep red line followed behind the blade. The witch closed her eyes and tried to stay silent, but the blade was too much. She faltered, attempting to pull her arm away. The ropes held.

"Where are the boys?" Grace asked, mirroring Serra's movements on the other arm. "Are they in that warehouse?"

The witch shut her eyes and began to whisper an incantation that none of us seemed to understand. I glanced at my wife as she calmly bent towards her backpack, unzipped it, pulled out another injector of my blood and without looking at down, stabbed it into her leg. Grace moved towards the witch and stepped deftly behind her, holding her steady by her hair. Serra approached, bouncing slightly on her toes and shook out her hands, rolling her head from side to side.

Almost knowing what was coming, Dean took a deep breath and ground his teeth together. Grace glanced at him and they nodded once at each other. Pulling the witch's hair, Grace took a deep breath and nodded once at her sister as she exposed the woman's neck.

Very slowly and deliberately, Serra walked towards the witch and pressed the Weapons' Stone blade to the woman's neck and waited patiently. She didn't stop chanting. Pressing hard enough to draw blood, Serra leaned forward. "If you're going to waste your breath, you should probably stop chanting and start telling me something useful," she whispered, "because I'm starting to enjoy myself." The witch glared at Serra but continued to chant. "Okay," my wife whispered, nodding at her sister once more. "I'm gonna try something new."

Reaching for the woman's forehead, Serra closed her eyes, concentrating on something. I glanced at Dean and Grace, but neither one of them seemed to know what she was up to. Seconds passed, and at first nothing happened, but then, the woman's eyes shot open and her chanting stopped suddenly. Her mouth moved as if she was trying to gasp for breath. Her fingers flared as her eyes grew wider, still panicking from whatever Serra was doing to her. I didn't want to break her concentration, but I stood, wanting to move closer. Grace flicked her bloodshot, blue eyes up to me and shook her head once, stopping me in my tracks.

Without warning, the witch let out a shrill scream and whipped her head back and forth as much as she could with Grace still holding her by the hair. Serra's eyes opened, but they were not the eyes I fell in love with. Her hazel gaze was gone and in their place, was the angelic blue glow that we had come to know from Cas and Grace.

I was speechless.

Serra released the woman and stepped away from her, allowing her to catch her breath. "Now," Serra whispered, leaning close to her face. "That was level one. I'm willing to bet I can get all the way to ten, now that I've got my mojo all figured out."

The witch was gasping for breath and her brown eyes were wide, still trying to figure out how Serra was doing what she was doing.

"Where are the kids and where the _fuck_ is Delilah?" Serra asked.

Grace held the woman by the hair and pressed the blade hard against her pulse point. "Any time now," Grace muttered. "We're burning daylight."

A trembling smile spread across the witch's face as she tilted her head to stare at Serra. "Your sister made an interesting choice of words," she whispered. "Considering your hunters are now piles of ashes on the floor of what's left of the diner."

Dean and I both took a step towards the women, but Serra held up her hands. "You've gotten to torture plenty of witches," she breathed. "It's our turn now."

I nodded at my wife and glanced at my brother.

Serra reached out to the woman's forehead once again, with Grace pulling her hair back hard enough to expose her neck again. "Let's try a four," Serra whispered as she closed her eyes.

Almost immediately, the witch began to scream. Her legs began to shake and her hands pulled fiercely against the rope restraints, making the wooden chair creak and groan. I had no idea what Serra was doing, or even how she was doing it, considering I had never seen Grace do anything resembling it, but I knew it had everything to do with the fact that she was a Warrior of Heaven.

 _Warrior of Fucking Heaven,_ I heard Serra's voice in my head as if she had said it aloud. I whipped my head up to stare at my wife, who was still concentrating on torturing the witch, but she turned and winked at me.

Serendipity Winchester was full of surprises.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Dean

Serendipity Winchester was terrifying.

I mean, I've seen a lot of people do a lot of shit and this was quickly topping the charts on the "scary to watch" torture scale. Whatever Serra was doing to the witch, it was making her scream and writhe around as if she was burning from the inside. Grace hadn't blinked an eye, though, so I wondered momentarily if she knew what her sister was doing.

And then I wondered, if when she had all her mojo, if Grace could do it too.

Finally, the screaming stopped and blood began to drip from the witch's nose, landing on the skirt of her prom dress. Serra stood back to catch her breath and wiped her face with the sleeve of her flannel. Grace remained where she was, holding the Weapons' Stone blade against the witch's throat.

"A four hurts pretty good, huh?" Serra asked, slightly out of breath. She glanced at Sammy and lifted her eyebrows at him, "How many injectors do we have left?"

"Five," he answered quietly.

Serra took a deep breath and nodded, "Gimmie," she whispered, flexing her fingers towards him.

Glancing at me, Sam took a deep breath. I started to agree with him, even though we kept our thoughts to ourselves: we had never tested how many injectors of Sammy's blood Serra could take, and we hadn't ever seen her crash after taking in so much. This was all so new and I couldn't help but wonder what the balance would be. It couldn't be pretty.

He tossed her another injector and without hesitating, Serra slammed it into her thigh, wincing as the needle pressed through her jeans and skin. Almost instantly, she reacted. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she shook her hands as if she was getting pumped full of adrenaline.

"Wait!" the witch cried as Serra turned towards her, ready to put her hand to her forehead once again. "They're here in Eau Claire, but only for the next hour or so. They," she gasped, "they had plans to move the boys before you got here, but," the witch struggled for breath and her words stopped immediately. She opened and closed her mouth, trying her hardest to breathe, but slowly, her face reddened, then purpled.

"Serra, stop!" Grace cried, pushing her sister away. "You're killing her."

"I'm not doing anything!" Serra answered, staring at her hands. "It's not me!"

The witch's eyes bulged as she attempted again and again to take a breath, but failed. Her hands began to shake and then her legs and finally, with a hiss, she was silent.

"Holy shit," Grace whispered. "Do you think-?"

Serra turned towards her sister with her hazel eyes wide, "Do I think that somehow Delilah strangled her from wherever she is? Yeah. Yeah I do."

Grace and I exchanged a look and I took a deep breath, glad that somehow, Delilah didn't seem to have the ability to do the same to us. "She said she was marked," Grace ventured. "Maybe that's how she keeps track of their loyalty."

I nodded. "It's gotta be," I agreed. "Okay," I sighed, moving towards the door of the abandoned store front. "We know the boys are being moved soon. Let's go."

Sam bent to pack the gear the girls had unloaded and Serra shook him off. "Leave it," she muttered. "We don't have time. We'll come back for it after we get the boys."

…

Grace

"My phone is ringing," I whispered as we approached the back of the alley that led to the warehouse once again. "Wait, just wait," I spat to Serra after seeing the shitty look she threw me. "Hello?" I whispered, not recognizing the phone number right away.

"Grace Browning?" a deep voice asked, "This is Washington Reynolds. Me and my brother came in with Anthony and Peter."

"Yeah," I answered, trying to hurry him along. "What? We're kinda in the middle of something."

"We're at a high vantage point here," he answered, trying to cut to the chase, "and they're getting ready to move. About six of them are loading a truck with supplies. We have a sniper rifle up here," he continued, sounding ominous. "You want us to take them out?"

I glanced up at Dean and Sam and without asking, I nodded. "Do it," I whispered. "Take them out if you can. We're behind the warehouse, coming up on the back entrance. The fewer witches we have to deal with, the better."

"Ten-four," Washington responded and with that, he was gone.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I whispered towards Dean and Sammy, "The Reynolds brothers are up on a building, watching witches load a truck. They're on the move." I took a deep breath and began walking towards Serra, who was already at the end of the alleyway. "They've got a couple of sniper rifles. I told them to take care of as many as they could so we'd have less to deal with."

Dean nodded behind me, taking out his forty-five and reassuring himself it was loaded. "Alright," he sighed. "It's now or never."

As quietly as we could, we followed Serra into the back of the warehouse. It was pitch black and there was no sound to be heard. Castiel moved to the front of the group, with Dean and Sam falling into step behind us. Every one of my senses was on fire, trying my best to take in my surroundings, but without my grace, I felt useless. One thought cycled through my head, over and over, ' _This is a very bad idea.'_

Ahead of us, there were voices floating through the air, commanding and authoritative. "The spell books and ingredients are the next priority," the harsh female voice announced. "They will need protection. Put them in the back with the Gatekeeper and Warrior. Ensure the sigils hold."

"Four in the front," Serra whispered.

Cas nodded, "Three to the right."

Dean leaned towards my ear and whispered, "Any sign of Lead Bitch?"

Serra shook her head. "She likes hiding behind the scenes," she answered. "Like a coward."

I could feel the adrenaline pounding in my ears. Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down, but more and more, I couldn't help the feeling of desperation seeping from our pores as we were about to attempt an attack on an enemy we knew very little about. This was the absolute worst idea we had ever had and more and more I wondered if we would all make it out of here.

Dean squeezed my hand and nodded once. He was ready, no matter the risk, and I loved him even more in that moment because of it.

"Well?" Serra whispered, glancing back at us. "You ready?"

"No," I answered, "but let's get this over with."

…

Crowley

The bloody Winchesters were about to get themselves killed. I hadn't been back to Delilah since the tornado, mostly because I had finally figured out the spell that bound me to her and I would rather spend my time figuring out how to get her out of power and me into power, but I won't waste your time explaining the details of my plans. Breaking her spell had given me a new sense of freedom, but this family had dragged me, _once again_ , into the middle of the bloody fight.

 _Bollocks._

From my position near the edge of town, I could see the hunters on top of the bakery, letting the ridiculous amounts of sunshine reflect off of their obnoxious weapons. If they hadn't been spotted by the witches yet, I would have doubts about Delilah's ability to choose henchmen. Well, hench _women._

Just as I expected, three of the witches noticed the hunters soon after I had and broke away, moving towards the bakery. I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes, flicking my hand dismissively towards the witches that moved across the street. They dropped into neat piles of fabric, sprawled across the pavement.

As I took the time to inspect my freshly done manicure, I noticed more movement near the truck that the women had been loading. I couldn't see her, but that didn't mean she wasn't there. Delilah had a way with simply appearing when it was most inconvenient and usually, the atmosphere gave it away before she did. I may have wanted to help the Winchesters (insert eye roll here) but I had no desire to become a pawn in more of Delilah's plans, especially now that I had broken free.

I had done enough to ensure that the Winchester children would not be victims in this little battle that was about to take place in the streets of this tiny, smelly, little town, so I could leave without feeling too much guilt. Well, I could leave without feeling any guilt. I wasn't out to protect _them._ I was here to protect _me_.

I disappeared on the spot, evading her just in time. I did miss our trysts together…there was something sinister about a demon wanting an angel. Forbidden fruit and all.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Serra

If this is how Grace feels all the time as a Nephilim, I don't pity her at all. I feel fucking spectacular. My senses are alive and I can hear each movement, each breath, from everyone in the warehouse. If I closed my eyes to concentrate, I could even start to feel heartbeats. It was fascinating.

The warehouse was dark, but that didn't affect how I moved because I could still see _everything._ Grace was right next to me, just like she belonged and I smiled, thinking about how perfect of a fighting pair we could be when she got her grace back. We'd be an unstoppable force.

Slowing down with the boys in our wake, I approached the corner of a long hallway, lit with overhead fluorescents. On each side, lining the hall, there were open, individual stalls as if livestock could be kept here, but from the cleanish, slightly musty smell, there hadn't been animals in here for a long time.

I couldn't explain it, but I wanted more than anything, to see what was behind the two doors at the end. Turning towards the rest of my family, I gestured to the end and drew my guns, taking the safety off of both with the flick of my thumbs.

Grace and Sam fell into step next to me, covering my flanks, while Dean and Cas brought up the rear, turning occasionally as we made our way down the hall to check for a tail. My breath came slowly and I was surprised how calm I was, considering how alive and ready to burst I felt. My skin was the only thing keeping me in one place.

Hearing voices off towards our left, I slunk back into the shadows of one of the abandoned stalls with Grace, Sam, Dean, and Cas following suit almost immediately. We strained to listen as the witches' voices got louder, coming closer towards us.

"Moving them is dangerous," one of the voices floated through the hall was the clicking of heels got closer. "The Winchesters are here and it's just a matter of time before we're all killed."

I smiled lightly at that thought, knowing how correct that particular witch was.

"We either follow orders," the other voice answered, "or Delilah kills us herself."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," the first female voice replied. "Either way, we die."

I didn't warn my family that I was about to act. The urge was too hard to control. Without warning, I jumped into the witches' paths and with one smooth motion; I pulled my favorite kukri blade from the sheath on my waist and decapitated the two witches. The exhilaration was incredible; I felt like I couldn't get enough.

"Sammy," I breathed. "Hit me again."

Grace tilted her head. "Don't you think you're tuned up enough?" she asked. "I feel like you get any more, you're gonna have a heart attack."

"Warrior of Fucking Heaven," I reminded her as I waggled my fingers in front of my husband. "How many more do we have?"

Sammy took a deep breath and made a face, reaching deep in his pockets, "Two," he answered, extending an injector towards me. "So savor this one."

I nodded eagerly and took it from his hand. I stabbed it into my thigh, closing my eyes slightly as the blood coursed its way through my veins. The fire within me was stoked once again, simmering close to a boil in my chest. "Let's get the boys and kill us some more witches," I smiled.

Dean and Grace exchanged a look that I didn't have the patience to translate. I jogged down the hall and picked up the rusty keychain that had fallen from the taller witch's hands as she fell to my blade. As I approached the door, I greeted, "Lee? Everett? It's us. We're here."

Extending the key to the door, I hesitated only slightly, feeling a change in the atmosphere of the hall. It was as if the air itself vibrated somehow. In my mind, that could only mean one thing.

Delilah was here.

"Get ready," I whispered, turning towards my sister. "She's here."

Sam and Dean both dropped their arms and turned, readying their aim with their own weapons. Castiel turned and stared curiously, finally hoping to get a good look at the creature that had been able to avoid us for so long. Grace found her position at my rear, extending The Judge in one hand and an angel blade in the other. She took an audible, deep and shaking breath as she steadied her nerves. I could only imagine the fear my sister hid; going into a fight for the first time in her life without her abilities. It had to be nerve wracking. I stepped closer to her and nodded encouragingly. "We've got this," I whispered. "Hold."

Grace steeled her jaw and nodded, but looked around as if she could hear something I couldn't. I didn't have time to wonder what she was looking for, because there, out of the shadows, was the woman we had been hunting for three months.

Delilah stepped into the light and tilted her head, looking annoyed. "Well, well, well," she sighed, pushing her red curls out of her face. She took another step and her leather boot step echoed off of the curved brick walls. "I wondered how many Winchesters I would get to kill today," she arched one of her eyebrows. "Looks like four is my lucky number." She glanced, annoyed, at Castiel. "And bonus," Delilah grinned. "One of the Battalion. I feel so honored to have you in my presence."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, but held his tongue. The rest of us stayed silent as well, waiting for Delilah to make the first move.

"I take it you're here for your kids," she sighed, smiling. Suddenly, her face turned to a pout and she continued mockingly, "And to try your very best to murder me."

Grace still seemed distracted, turning her head and listening the same way she did when she was listening to our thoughts, back when she had her grace intact. I flicked my gaze to my sister, making sure she was as ready as I needed her to be, "You with us?" I whispered. "You ready?"

Licking her lips and furrowing her brow, she nodded once. "As ready as I'm gonna be," she answered. She glanced at Dean, who questioned her hesitation with a look. She immediately shook him off, trying to get her head in the game.

"This could be easy," I began, holding up the keychain that I picked up from the ground. "We go in, get the boys, and you step aside to let us."

Clicking her tongue and shaking her head, Delilah answered, "That's not going to work for me."

I smiled and nodded, knowing full well that a battle was coming. "Okay, then," I breathed. "Option two."

It seemed like the walls themselves began to explode around us. We all turned and took cover as Sam and Dean began unloading angel rounds towards her. Cas approached her with the angel blade extended after dropping it from his sleeve, but Delilah seemed uninterested in tangling with the angel and snapped her fingers. Instantly, Castiel disappeared.

"What the hell?" Dean whispered, looking around for Cas. "What the hell did you do with him?"

Delilah smiled sweetly. "Never you mind," she answered, raising her hand to snap again. "I know things about this world and the next that he would only dream of."

Grace narrowed her eyes and shook her head, unloading The Judge straight into Delilah's chest and head. Without effort, the bullets stopped in their tracks, inches from her body. They collapsed from the air and made a neat pile at her feet.

We stopped firing as the doors behind us opened wide with another snap of Delilah's manicured fingers. There, in the darkness, I could make out two small figures: Levi and Everett were tied to chairs in their own cells, watching from the black of the room.

"Momma!" Lee tried to shout, but his voice was hoarse and soft. It distracted me long enough to get caught off guard from a hit from Delilah and she knocked me to the ground as witches began to join the fight. Instantly, I was on my feet again, sweeping my leg out and taking down two witches before they had the chance to make it to the boys.

Grace turned, attempting to make it down the hall towards the boys as the witches threw themselves into the fight. Dean was shooting without thought, taking one or two of the women down, but they seemed to adapt to his fighting style and instantly had some kind of shield following them around, a lot like my sister used in Holden.

Frustrated, he holstered his forty-fives and sighed as he pulled two blades from the waistband of his jeans. The Knight Blade seemed to glow as he held it with the same arm as his Mark of Cain, ready for a fight. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, struggling to keep his unchecked rage at bay. He flew at the women, slicing his way through, trying to follow Grace towards the back of the hall as she headed for the boys.

Delilah wasn't having it though, and narrowed her eyes to fall into pursuit. Sam and I did what we could to keep as many of the witches away from our siblings as they headed towards our kids, but the women had learned some new tricks and it was difficult to even gain footing, let alone take any of them down.

I could feel the high of Sam's blood begin to wear off and turning towards a brick wall, I holstered one of my blades long enough to pull the final injector from Sam's back pocket. Taking a deep breath, I hoped it would last long enough to get out of this mess.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Sam

For awhile, we seemed to be holding our own. I felt a renewed sense of hope, seeing Levi at the end of the hall and knowing that he and Everett were still alive. Serra was a machine, whipping through witch after witch and taking no prisoners and I finally saw her as her title described: The Warrior of Heaven. Dean fought as hard as I had ever seen him, swinging the Knight Blade around like it was an extension of his body.

I glanced towards my sister-in-law and watched her stumble, doing what she could to stay ahead of the witches that did everything in their power to kill her. Even without her normal abilities as a Nephilim, Grace was an amazing fighter, putting down witch after witch as she made her way closer to our sons.

Delilah stood back, watching the fight with a slight smirk on her face. I wanted nothing more than to make her suffer, so I decided to end the battle that I was having with a witch, slicing her once across the face and forcing her to the ground. Turning in one motion towards Delilah, I readied myself as my wife injected the last vial of my blood into her leg. Serra glanced at me and nodded, and together we headed for the woman of the hour.

Seeing us coming seemed to excite her. Delilah had been toying with a tiny glass charm at the end of a thick silver chain that seemed to glow blue, but dropped it back to her chest when she saw us approach. "It's about time I got my chance to fight a true Warrior of Heaven," Delilah grinned. "I've heard so much about your kind," she continued mockingly, "and how hard it's supposed to be to kill you."

Serra took a deep breath and nodded, "Let's find out," Serra answered, taking a step towards Delilah. The red head grinned as she dropped two larger-than-normal angel blades from the sleeves of her dress. Serra only hesitated long enough to take a breath, and then charged towards her, firing from one of the Twins and swinging the kukri blade at the same time.

The air seemed to pulse as we fought, doing everything in our power to kill the woman in front of us. Her fighting style confirmed our theories: she was most definitely an angel, but with specially trained abilities that made her more witch than cosmic being. She seemed to pull weapons right out of the air, swiping right and left with things I could barely see, they were moving so fast.

Tossing me to the ground with a wave of her hands, I struggled to get back to my feet, but something seemed to hold me to the floor. I glared at Delilah, knowing she was doing it, but she focused the entirety of her energy on Serra, who was giving her the fight of her life. Turning towards Serra, I watched, helpless to do anything, but at the same time, my wife didn't seem to need my help. She fought as I had never seen, with a ferocity that even I was a little surprised to see.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dean reaching Levi and freeing him from the chair he was strapped to. Grace got to Everett at the same time and she fought with the restraints, trying to free her son. Once free, Everett clung to his mother, burying his face in her hair and wrapping his arms around her neck. The look on Everett's face as he glared at Delilah from down the dark hallway gave me chills.

The lights flickered from above us, forcing a few of the witches to stop and stare at the ceiling, waiting to see what would happen next. Even Delilah flinched, almost sensing something in the air. It suddenly felt like the worst was about to happen.

…

Dean

Having Lee back in my arms and Everett in Grace's gave me hope. It gave me the idea that we might be able to get out of here unscathed.

The glimmer of hope I had faded as soon as I saw the look in my son's eyes.

Turning to stare at me through her exhausted, bloodshot blue eyes, Grace furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, almost knowing what I was thinking. "Don't," she whispered. "Focus on getting the boys out of here."

I steeled my jaw as I turned, still carrying Levi. He wrapped his skinny arms around me and buried his face in my neck, doing everything he could to get as close as possible. It was obvious that Delilah had been starving him; my nephew hadn't been this lightweight since he was three. I would have given anything to have Cas back in the hall with us to _bamf_ us home without a second glance but I had no idea where Delilah sent him. Wherever it was, it was too far from here and Lucia was nowhere to be seen.

There was a change in the atmosphere as Serra injected her last vial of Sam's blood into her leg. The Mark of Cain was pissed for the first time in what felt like years, and I could almost see the difference in the air. Serra had a glow to her as she fought, whipping around faster than I could track. She was a blur and it was hard to stay focused on the task at hand, until I glanced at my son.

The genetic Mark of Cain.

The Gatekeeper of Hell.

Time seemed to slow down as I turned to face my wife. I knew from experience what was about to happen…the fight was too much for him. It was too intense and there was too much at stake. I turned to Grace, panic hitting me faster than I knew what to do with. She didn't have her grace…she was human. There was no way she would be able to handle the full force of one of Everett's tantrums and come out on top.

"Grace, put him down," I called, rushing to her side. She stared at me and shook her head, nodding towards Delilah. Turning, I gasped as I watched Delilah lift Serra with nothing but her mind, holding her high in the air by her throat.

Serra kicked and tried to free herself, but there was nothing she could do. Serra's face was already purple as she gasped for breath and I whipped back to Grace, setting Levi down at her feet and rushed to try and help my sister-in-law.

It happened in an instant.

The hall lit with the brightest white light I had ever seen; so bright that I couldn't keep my eyes open. I raised my hand to shield my face from the rays, but even that still made it as if I was staring into the sun. I turned back to Grace, wondering where the light was coming from, but then it hit me that it was from both sides of the tunnel.

Crouching down around the boys, Grace wrapped herself around Levi, trying to protect him from the force of Everett's impending blast. I turned to take a step back towards my wife and slowly, she closed her eyes and shook her head once. "Don't," I saw her mouth move, but couldn't hear the sound over the scream of an angel's true voice.

Or at least, that's what I thought it was.

Delilah squinted into the light being produced by Serendipity, still holding her in the air. Sam seemed to have been released from whatever spell Delilah had over him and he scrambled to the edge of the wall, trying his best to get out of the way.

The light and sound was just too much. I collapsed to the ground, holding my hands over my ears. Grace, I saw, was doing the same and from across the expanse of the tunnel, we made eye contact. For the first time in what seemed like months, I heard Grace in my head, _"Don't come after me."_

I was confused, _"What?"_

 _"Your job is our kids. Don't you dare waste your time coming after me."_

"Grace!" I shouted, trying to get to her before the sound or light got worse. I struggled to my feet, doing everything I could to get to my wife.

The ground beneath my feet shook, breaking Delilah's hold on Serra, and she dropped her to the dirt. Serra didn't waste any time. She scrambled to her feet, amidst the light and sound, drawing her Weapons' Stone straight blade, and threw herself towards Delilah, screaming as she tried to kill her. Delilah disappeared on the spot, right as the walls around us exploded, sending bricks and debris into the air. I hit the ground again, curled into a ball, and tried to cover my head and face with my arms as best I could, but my body was pounded with hundreds of rocks and pieces of brick.

The scream continued to get louder until I thought my ear drums would burst until finally, it was completely silent and the extreme light had faded. The only person still standing was Serra, but even then, I could see as the dust settled, that she would hit the ground in a matter of seconds.

The tunnel and stalls were completely destroyed; brick and cement rubble piled all around me. There were a few witches, still attempting to stand, but everyone seemed pretty beat up. Realizing that Grace was still behind me, trying to protect Levi and Everett, I sat up too fast and whipped around, trying to see my wife, son, and nephew through the clouds of dust.

"Grace!" I shouted, finally able to find my voice. "Grace?" Sam was with me, trying to pick a path through the rubble. We tried to run, but there was just too much in the way, so our progress was slow. "Grace!" I shouted again.

There was no reply.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Serra

I couldn't hear. I could barely see.

It was as if I was waking up from a deep sleep, but I was standing in the middle of a pile of broken brick and cement: the shards of the tunnel that was destroyed by the light and sound from…whatever that was. My legs were shaking and I wanted nothing more than to lie down and fall to sleep, but I forced myself to turn and survey the damage I had helped cause.

There was something in me that knew that the last vial of blood would have been too much, but my hatred for Delilah had trumped my need to stay safe. I wanted so badly to kill her, and I had been so close. I know for a fact that when I lunged at her, I got a good swipe in. There was blood across my Weapons' Stone blade that dripped into the dirt and rubble at my feet.

I felt like I was in slow motion as I turned to stare at what I had clutched in my other hand. I could hear the boys yelling in the background, but my hearing was still sketchy, and I didn't turn around. I was too entranced in the objects I held.

Slowly, I opened my hand to reveal a chunk of Delilah's bright red hair, and tangled in my fingers, was the silver chain of the necklace she had been toying with as she had appeared. The glowing blue charm had disappeared. I looked past my hands and towards the ground, squinting into the rubble to see if I could make out the faint glow of what I was searching for.

"—erra!" I could almost make out Sam's voice; and his tone forced me to turn. "Serra!" he screamed, even more desperate, and blinking, I tried to focus on what was happening at the other end of the darkened tunnel.

Witches were either dead or dying, and if they were still somehow breathing, they were crawling away from me as I made my way down the hall. The rest of my family was piled at the end of the hall, surrounded by brick and cement pieces. Dean was crouching over someone, pumping their chest and breathing into their mouth, trying to put life back where it wasn't.

My first thoughts were of my son, hoping with everything that I was that Dean wasn't trying to resuscitate Levi, but the longer I thought, the more I hoped it wasn't Everett either.

But then, my heart dropped out of my chest.

It didn't even seem like Grace had been option, but there she was, covered with debris. Her face was bloodied and her eyes were closed. Everett stood near his mother, his hands over his face with tears dripping from his cheeks. Sam clutched Levi, hugging him fiercely with his eyes closed, thankful that he was safe. As I approached, I fell to my knees, watching Dean continue to try to breathe life back into my sister.

"Breathe, Grace," he chanted as he pumped. "Breathe, honey. Come on now."

I sat on my knees in front of my son and my husband and wrapped my arms around both of them. Turning towards Everett, I stretched to reach him as well, attempting to comfort him as much as I was able to, but before I realized what was happening, Delilah reappeared right next to him, bleeding profusely from a wound in her chest and reached for my nephew. I stared at the angel for a good three seconds in disbelief before she made eye contact with me and smiled wickedly.

"No!" I screamed, reaching out for Everett as he turned towards me with panic in his eyes. Dean turned as well, his eyes mirroring his son's as he dove for both Delilah and Everett.

Faster than I thought it was possible, Delilah lunged for my nephew's arm and as soon as she made contact, closed her eyes and was gone again, this time taking Everett with her. My mind couldn't comprehend what had just happened…I just stared at the spot where he had just been standing, holding my breath and waiting for him to return to where he was seconds ago.

Finally, I took a shaking breath and turned towards Dean, making the mistake of making eye contact with him. He huffed out a sob and shook his head, looking completely lost as tears flooded his green eyes. Just as we thought we had won, Delilah managed to strip almost everything away from us again. I had no idea what to do. It seemed like we were suddenly back to square one.

Dean seemed frozen in place, but focused his attention back to my sister, trying desperately to get her to wake. I forced myself to stare down at Grace, but her body was limp and lifeless, and it again occurred to me that she was human.

I felt my eyes widen as I opened my hand to stare down at the chain and clump of red hair in my hand. Without a word, I dropped my arms from around Levi and Sam and ran as fast as I could to where I had been standing when Delilah disappeared the first time. I dug into the brick and the cement debris, searching for the tiny glass charm that had been on Delilah's chain, knowing it had to have fallen off when I ripped the necklace from her body.

Dean continued to try and resuscitate Grace, but I knew if I could find the charm, I could fix her. I could feel it.

As I listened to Dean call to Grace and Levi cry, my desperation grew. My sister was slipping away from me, and Everett was back in Delilah's possession, and it was my fault. I had failed at being a Warrior of Heaven, the one thing I had been destined to do. There was nothing I could do to fix the problem. Slowly, I sat down where I was, among the debris, and stared at what remained of my family. It was all my fault.

…

Dean

I don't know how we got back to the ranch. I don't know who drove and I don't know how long it took. Everything after the building collapse was a blur.

Somehow, we ended up back inside the house. The other hunters that were still alive followed me into the house like the tail of a comet as I carried Grace's limp form and laid her gently on our bed. There were whispered questions as I stood above her, completely numb, and stared.

She hadn't had a pulse since the cave in, but somehow, I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that she was dead. It just didn't make sense. After all the things we had been through together; after all the near misses and times we had been separated from each other…we had always made it back to each other. Always.

Now, she was gone. _Don't you dare come after me,_ I heard her voice echo again through my mind as I squeezed my eyes shut, still hoping that this was somehow a deranged nightmare. My wife was gone. My son was gone. Delilah had somehow taken them from me and I had left her breathing.

I had failed them.

This was all my fault.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Sam

"Uncle Sammy?"

I heard Liberty; but couldn't make myself acknowledge her. I knew that I should be feeling the same pain that my brother and wife were feeling, but all I felt was cold. Numb.

"Uncle Sammy?" Libby asked again, gently. She moved closer to touch my arm, resting her tiny fingers on my shoulder as I sat on the coffee table in the living room. "Don't be sad, Uncle Sammy."

I turned slowly towards my niece and couldn't help the look of confusion that crossed my face. Licking my lips, I pivoted towards her and took a deep breath. "It's okay to be sad, Lib," I started, trying my best to think of the words I would need to comfort her. "We…we're all going to be sad for awhile, kiddo."

Liberty nodded slowly, furrowing her eyebrows as she considered my words. "Because of Everett and Momma?" she asked quietly.

I nodded slowly, tears welling in my eyes, no matter how hard I fought it. "Yeah," I whispered. "I'm so sorry, Liberty."

Turning away from me, Lib stared at her parents' bedroom and took a deep breath. She released it again slowly, almost as if she was calming herself down before she continued. "Don't be sorry, Uncle Sammy," she answered without looking at me. "My brother will be okay. Delilah needs him."

I nodded, closing my eyes. "Yeah," I agreed. "She does."

…

Sam

I stacked logs on top of more logs mindlessly while a few of the remaining hunters did the same. Grace's funeral pyre was one of the largest I had ever built. I had chopped the wood from the giant oak tree that had almost crushed Serra to death; sacrificing it to Grace seemed like appropriate punishment for the Live Oak. I glanced back towards our house again, hoping to see Serra in a different spot than when I left her, but there she was, still standing at the base of our back steps, simply staring into the field where we worked.

Santiago paused to wipe his jet-black hair from his face, and then glanced up at me. "She has not moved," he commented. "It's been over two hours."

I sighed, nodding slowly. "I know," I answered, bending to lift another oak log onto the pyre. "I don't know even what to say to her. She's just…I don't know." Taking a deep breath, I shook the hair out of my eyes. "Pretty soon after Dean and Grace got together, she had a vision about a stalker," I lifted another log. "This guy hunted her for a while and in the end, almost killed her." I reached for another log. "When it was all over, and Grace was on the mend, I wondered how I would have handled Dean and Serra if Grace hadn't made it. I couldn't decide who would have been worse off." Bending for the last log, I nodded to my wife, who still stood silently at the other end of the field between our houses. "I'm starting to think I'm going to have my answer."

Santiago nodded quietly, turning to stare at her. "Serendipity has lived in Grace's shadow her entire life. When their father was killed, she ran away and found us, but Grace tracked her down to make sure she was safe." Santi ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather it and tie it at the base of his neck with a thin strip of black leather. "I realized that Serra was not looking for a way to escape Grace, she was simply testing to see how much she and her sister mattered to each other."

"I remember the story," I commented, resting on the ax handle. "She was only gone two weeks."

Nodding, Santiago agreed, "Serra does not know what it's like to breathe without Grace. She does not know how to eat or sleep without her sister. They are a pair; a matching set. One was not without the other for very long."

"So what does that mean now, that Grace is—" I hesitated on the last word, unwilling to admit defeat aloud.

"Dead?" Santiago supplied.

I nodded.

Santiago seemed to hesitate, attempting to find the right words, "I hope I am wrong, Sam Winchester."

"About what?"

He shrugged. "Serendipity does not know how to live without Grace."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look up at my wife. "You think she'll give up?" I asked, "You think that she'll try something?" I shook my head, unwilling to believe. "She wouldn't," I stuttered. "The kids."

Nodding slowly, Santiago placed a hand on my arm. He whispered, "I would like to think that your children would be enough as well." He patted my forearm and turned, headed quietly back up to the Big House. Without another word, he opened the back door and disappeared inside.

…

Sam

I helped change the kids into fresh clothes and lined them up in the living room, straightening their shirts and smoothing the girls' hair. Charlotte and Faith were sitting in their highchairs at the dining room table and the two older girls stood next to Levi, emotionless and vague.

I had finally convinced Dean to shower and shave, hoping that he would feel a bit more human, but I knew there was nothing he would be able to do to fill the void left behind by his wife. He was handling it much better than I thought he would, but at the same time, it was still fresh, and he had his kids to worry about. They seemed like a good distraction from the gaping wound that still lay on their bed.

The girls, though, I was truly worried about. Liberty didn't seem to acknowledge or understand that her mother was gone. She was stoic, but still in high spirits; happy that so many people were still hanging around the house. Glory followed suit, excitedly picking out one of her 'fancy' dresses when I asked her what she wanted to wear when we laid their mother to rest.

Jody and Donna had done their hair in loose, lovely braids, and I realized with a pang how much they both looked like Grace with their hair down. I took Glory's hand and glanced at Dean as he took Lib's. I took Levi's hand as well and nodded as Donna and Jody each picked up a baby. As we made our way down the steps and into the field where the funeral pyre had been built, I realized that all the surviving hunters had followed us into the wheat, but Serra had remained where she was in the kitchen.

I made eye contact with Dean and he licked his lips and nodded once at me, giving me permission to drop Liberty and Levi's hands and go back for my wife. The kids glanced up at me and I tried to smile, gesturing to the group of people in our backyard. "I'm right behind you," I whispered.

They continued down the steps, following Dean, Jody, and Donna as I turned towards the kitchen. "Sere?" I asked gently. "You coming?"

Jody and Donna had continued their journey to sainthood, helping get Serra changed into the black jeans and maroon top she wore. Her hair hung limp down her back and around the sides of her face, looking pale and sunken. She hadn't really eaten in the past few days since coming home from Wisconsin and her face was beginning to show it.

I approached carefully, taking a slow, silent breath through my nose. "Serra?" I asked, still attempting to keep my voice gentle. "Serra, it's time."

Her hazel eyes didn't even flick towards me in response. She still stood in the corner of the kitchen, staring at nothing, and breathing slowly through her nose. I licked my lips and reached for her hand. When she didn't protest, I simply led her towards the back door that led to the field in between our houses. She followed slowly, putting one foot in front of the other as we headed towards Grace's funeral.


	35. Chapter 35

::This is my last chapter of _Vengeance._ I hope you hang with me while I finish up editing the sequel ( _Ashes_ )...it'll be good, I promise. PLEASE leave a review and let's me know what you think! Thank you so much for reading! Love and internet thugs,

the girl with the dinosaur tattoo::

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Chapter 35

Dean

In all the terror that I have seen and experienced in my life, losing Grace is easily the most painful; and that is including losing Sammy a couple of times. I can't put into words what the hollow feeling is like in my chest; how it hurt to breathe and how it's physically painful to look at my girls, especially with how much Lib and Glory look like Grace. I don't know if it's age or experience, or both, but I can't even really react the way I want to: scream and yell, throw shit and punch holes in my walls.

I just don't have it in me.

The waves of numbness keep returning as Grace's voice echoes through my head over and over again… _Don't you dare come after me._ It was the first telepathic thought she had sent me in months and it goes against everything that I am not to take off in the Impala, force my way into Heaven, and drag my wife home. But again, I just don't have it in me.

Sammy came down the steps of the house and into the field holding Serra's hand, leading her the same way I had led the girls down the steps. Her face was gray and blank, staring ahead enough to navigate the steps, but not really seeing anything else. I could see Cas glance at me out of the corner of my eye; his face creased with worry.

He had managed to reappear at the house yesterday, finally freeing himself of whatever curse Delilah had hit him with during the battle. Seeing Grace's limp form on our bed may have been too much for Cas. He hadn't said a word since yesterday. None of us really had.

I tried talking to Lib and Glory before Sam went out to help Santiago and Tulley build the funeral pyre. I searched for the words to tell my kids that their mother wasn't coming home and that their brother was still missing, and I'm pretty sure I got it all out, but Liberty seemed unperturbed.

She smiled gently at me and hugged me fiercely, whispering, "It's okay, Daddy. I know Momma's not here."

I'm not entirely sure what that meant, but I didn't know how to correct her.

As Serra and Sam found their places next to Levi and Jody, who held Charlie, I licked my lips and nodded, convincing myself to take the next step and light the pyre. I dropped Glory's hand and reached into my pocket, searching for the books of matches I had shoved into my jeans. Gasping for breath and barely holding it together, I took a step forward and finally lifted my head to stare at my wife.

Grace was just as gorgeous as she had been the day we met. Her blonde hair fell around her face in loose waves and her body was wrapped tightly in a white sheet, hiding the mortal wounds she had suffered in the hallway collapse. As I lit a book of matches, I closed my eyes and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Gracie."

The pyre caught quickly.

There were stifled sounds of grief on all sides. Donna and Jody leaned on each other as they held Faith and Charlie. Sammy wiped his face with one hand as he gripped his wife's hand with the other. Tulley, Fred, Santiago, and the other hunters had removed hats and sunglasses, holding them across their chests in varying degrees of respect.

Serra was silent. Her eyes were dry and vacant, staring into the flames with a hollow look. My girls watched quietly as well, but still didn't look disheartened.

 _Momma's not here._

I stared down at Liberty and sighed, knowing that I was about to try and raise three girls on my own, attempt to track down and rescue my fourth kid, keep a mechanics' shop open and earning enough money to support those four kids, help Sam keep Serra sane, and somehow do all of this without my wife.

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. I had no idea what I was doing without Grace.

…

Dean

It had been almost two weeks since the funeral and somehow, I was surviving. I had thrown myself into the routine of making meals, taking the girls to school, completing ongoing tornado repairs to our house as well as Sam and Serra's, picking the girls up from school, checking on the shop, and breathing. Somehow, we were all still functional and I didn't slow down enough to allow myself to feel the pain of Grace's absence.

It was late one Wednesday night and I counted the reassuring flicks of Grace's wedding ring hitting me in the chest, hanging from the silver chain around my neck as I washed the dishes. It was a mantra that kept me moving, reminding me that my kids were depending on me.

Tulley, Fred, and Santiago were still camping out in the barn, checking in with me occasionally, and still hunting Delilah, looking for Everett. I wanted to be out there with them, but Santi convinced me to allow them to do the legwork and concentrate on the rest of my kids. I knew he was right, so I allowed it.

I didn't turn as Sam came into the kitchen, so I didn't see firsthand the panicked look on his face.

"Hey," I muttered. "Found some more bricks this afternoon on my way home from picking up Lib. We can finish your mantle tomorrow if you want."

Sam didn't reply immediately, so I turned to see what he was doing, still up to my forearms in sudsy water. I turned, and seeing the look on his face, pulled my hands from the water and grabbed a towel. "What, Sam? What's the matter?"

"You seen Serra?" he asked, glancing around the living room.

I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head, questioning. "Seen Serra? Dude, she's been a statue for two weeks. She's not where you left her?"

Sammy shook his head slowly, "I went to bathe Charlie and put her down, and when I got back downstairs, she was gone."

"Gone," I repeated. "What does that mean? She hasn't so much as given me a sarcastic comment since—" I shook my head, skipping the last part of that sentence. "She hasn't even moved on her own in two weeks, Sam. Where could she have gone?"

"I don't know!" Sam ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. "Her truck is still here, though. She didn't leave the property."

I licked my lips, closing my eyes as I realized that it wasn't Santi's truck I heard about twenty minutes ago. It was my wife's metal-flake, deep purple Chevelle.

"She took the Chevelle," I muttered, shaking my head. "I heard it. Didn't occur to me that it was Serra. Thought it was Santi."

Sam sighed heavily, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. "Where would she have gone?"

I tossed the hand towel on the counter and took a deep breath. "Hold on, hold on," I started, holding out my hand, "don't get your panties in a twist. We'll go out and look for her. Tulley, Fred, and Santiago are here. They can stay with the kids while we go out and look."

…

Dean

I acted like I didn't know where Serra may have gone as Sammy and I split up to look for her. I didn't want Sam to know that there were aspects of his wife that I understood better than he did.

But I did.

Serra and I had a lot in common; more than most in-laws did. Grace had teased us relentlessly that we were essentially the same person, right up until Serra turned it around, saying that she had married her own sister, then. I smiled at the memory of that particular argument as I turned the corner in my Impala and caught sight of the purple metal-flake paint glistening under the moonlight. As I pulled up behind the Chevelle, I cut the engine and the headlights and stared up at the church bells as they began their evening toll. Mass had just begun for the late-night parishioners, but because of the hour, there weren't many cars in the street in front of the Catholic church.

Pocketing my keys, I began the trek around the outside of the building and did what I could to control my breathing, knowing in my gut what was coming. This was a path that Sam wouldn't be able to follow; he just didn't understand her the way I did when it came to Serendipity.

The moon was full, flooding the garden with a pale blue light. The Virgin Mary statue greeted me silently as I walked past, as she had when I had discovered Grace's secret hideaway, not long after we had begun dating. Memories began slipping into my mind without permission and I swallowed back the lump of emotion that had begun to gather in my throat.

"It's nice when the bells are the only thing I can hear," Grace's voice whispered in my memory. I remembered nodding silently as an answer, pretending to understand what my wife had gone through on a daily basis before her abilities had matured.

I came to the clearing in the garden where St. Francis of Assisi stood, facing a set of benches among the roses. The back of Serendipity's head was visible in the moonlight; the burgundy highlights in her dark hair shining in the soft glow. I took a deep breath and steadied myself as I ventured towards her.

Without a word, I sat down on the bench beside my sister-in-law. Folding my hands in my lap, I stared up at the statue of St. Francis right along with her and took a deep breath. She remained still and silent, not acknowledging my presence for more than a few minutes. Finally, Serra took a gasping, ragged breath.

"I miss her," she whispered, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

"I know," I answered, still staring at the marble statue. "Me too."

"I don't know how to do anything without her," Serra continued, unmoving. "It's like I've died, right along with her."

I clenched my teeth together, swallowing hard as I listened to Serra finally acknowledge Grace's death. "You didn't though, Sere," I whispered, finally turning to stare at her. "We didn't. We're still here and the kids need us. Everett needs us to find him. Lee and Charlie need you to raise them." I shook my head slowly, searching for the words. "Grace needs us to keep living for her."

"She was supposed to be immortal," Serra continued as if I hadn't spoken. "The angels said she was immortal."

I turned physically towards Serra and furrowed my eyebrows, hating myself for telling the truth, "Her grace was sapped, Sere. Delilah did exactly what she wanted…she took her grace and made her mortal." I took a deep breath as the tears I had managed to ignore finally found my eyes. "She told us…she told me not to come after her. She needs us to continue without her."

"I don't know how."

Suddenly, Serra was on her feet, approaching the statue of St. Francis. It was the most I had seen her move in two weeks. As I watched, her sadness shifted suddenly to anger. She balled her fists and swallowed hard, gritting her teeth, and furrowing her eyebrows as she turned to stare at me.

"You—you told me you would keep her safe. You told me when you married her that you would never let anything happen to her," Serra gasped, approaching me. "You promised, Dean, and you fucking blew it."

Slowly, I stood from the bench, but remained silent, staring into her hazel eyes.

"She was supposed to be safe with you!" Serra growled, and without warning, she pushed me with both of her hands, as hard as she could. "You _promised._ " She shoved me again, but I didn't even need to take a step back. This only seemed to piss her off. "She was supposed to be _safe!_ " Serra took a deep breath and hit me as hard as she could across the face.

As soon as she made contact, the dam broke. Serra dissolved into a puddle of tears, and would have physically collapsed, but I opened my arms and she fell into my chest, sobbing for the first time since her sister's—my wife's death. I closed my eyes and felt my own tears finally roll down my face and into my sister's hair. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, and let her cry.


End file.
